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evie Pruhzizes! - Subscribe
Constantly trying to pair up words in a sequence no one has ever done before.

This is poetry, this is art. This is impossible.

Jeremy bought me fun smelly stuff today. It made me feel better about Chelsea telling me I always smell like poop. I don't know if I really smell like poop that often or if she was just being immature. However the expensive black raspberry vanilla musk confiscates any further questioning.

She dropped my kitten several times. He went splat. She decided he's softer upside down. He was terrified. When he tried to get down she dropped him. He never lands on his feet. If you play with him once or twice you realize this.

He's a snuggly baby and he misses Papa Jin. He cries at night for lack of a feathery ginger boa to attack.

She tortures Puzzle, she insults me, she broke my cutting board, trashed the living room, allows the bin to pile up. These are only the things that have happened in the past few days.

I got snarky with Jeremy when I tried to complain and he didn't respond. Finally he told me it didn't seem so bad. I'm so tired of him.

Maybe I'm just being childish.

I'm being childish because he made it up to me with candy.

I miss counseling. I miss bitching to someone who is professionally empathetic. Someone who doesn't sleep with me.

God I want sex.
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Mood: Horny

evie Facebook Status Drama Nov 25th, 2008 12:35:32 am - Subscribe
Rachel Everett:

is too old for this.

finds this all very amusing.

thinks it's silly how you overreact to everything.

doesn't understand how you can be mean to someone like Shannon. Someone who has been wonderful to you.

can't wait for you to get a real landlord. One who won't put up with your being 25 days late on rent without charging a late fee.

doesn't think the greatest photographer could portray you as you are

doesn't think your boyfriend is the greatest photographer.

will not delete you as a friend on facebook because she secretly can't wait for the day you break up with your boyfriend. She's sure it will be his fault.

wishes you would grow up with her instead of insisting on this childish mentality.

doesn't understand how a person could point-blank lie about something so obvious.

hopes you have the decency to clean before you move out.

understands that you can't handle responsibility so she won't put any added pressure on you.

knows how self defeating your mindset is, so she won't call you out when it's really your fault.

really doesn't want anything of yours.

misses the old days just as much as you, but wouldn't change anything now.

knows this town won't miss you anymore than you will it.

doesn't really think it's the town you have a problem with.

can finally call you out on things.

is no longer dependent on you.

cannot wait for you to be out of her life.

has changed.

knows you will not.
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Mood: tranquil

evie Red Paper Nov 19th, 2008 4:32:11 am - Subscribe
Bob told me it would be interesting to see me not have sex for a month. I had this great image of myself, bloodied crawling around on the ground, muttering "need sex" over and over. I laughed and felt compelled to draw it.

I had some weird episode in his office, probably from low blood sugar. I was thinking about how cool I was in high school and how I never drank, then something about Eric crossed my mind and I got light-headed. I was incredibly sad, I think I may have teared up. Things got fuzzy around my eyes but not like I was blacking out. It was more electric. Blue clouds in front of me, comforting my mind. I felt Bob's voice disappearing, replaced by the sound of oxygen while distant imaginary vehicals honked at me. I like to think this was my brain protecting me from whatever it was I was feeling. When I began to return to reality, Bob asked me who walked out on me.

"What?!?"

He asked me where I went, I had no clue. He decided I was either hungry or pregnant. Either seems logical. I wonder if I was talking during this bout of invisibility. If there was a reason he asked me who walked out on me. I may have to inquire about this later. Fortunately, no one has ever walked out on me.

Carbon monoxide? I didn't hear my pulse.

I came 5-9 times in the past 24 hours. My mom saw my sex hair. I miss her. She's nutz.
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Mood: down

evie Next time Nov 16th, 2008 4:29:23 am - Subscribe
I drank enough to let him fuck me. How many shots? I don't know. It doesnt matter. I don't really care. It's not like I did it to prove a point. Maybe, or did I?

Who cares.

So I felt totally used. He offered me weed. This made those thoughts and feelings go away. Until I woke. That's when I went to work. I have to play it off. Working is a lot like alcohol. Mindless activity that makes me forget.

He texted me thousands of times. It irritated me and slowed me down a bit. I thought he was being dramatic. I just moved back into my house. I'm not his fucking girlfriend. So I planned on walking in screaming something along the lines of "What the fuck did I do to you?" or something just to see if he would scream back only to immediately laugh at him and show I'm actually totally cool. Instead I got all weird and emotional but still attempted to play it off.

I wouldn't do it now.

Jealousy means caring. Caring means future pain and disappointment.

I miss Jeremy.

Why did I have sex with Old Kid?
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Mood: stormy

evie Guess What I Found Nov 10th, 2008 1:01:30 am - Subscribe
Alcohol abstinence, not so hot. I went Friday and Saturday on one cigarette. It about killed me. Friday was fine. I fucked Jeremy in his freezy house and fell asleep in front of a rusty space heater. My mother and I argued about different things. She was cranky pretty much all weekend. Menopause or something.

Saturday I couldn't make up my mind what to wear to the shower. I was so afraid of creating some insane reaction within my mother. She generally approves of crazy outfit when she's happy. I figured this particular day I should make an attepmpt at conventionalism.

I went to the damn shower. Hundreds of pregnant women and fucking children everywhere. I pretty much wanted to disappear. Everyone was loud and fake. I had to sit in the car. It was too much for me to take.

We went shopping. Fruitless. Boring. Exhausing.

After we got home I went to Ellsworth to see Jeremy at work. He had the day off so we just drove around. We went to the park where I ended up crying on him about how my parents moved all the stuff out of my room, how I'm "not ready to be an aunt," I'll never amount to anything or graduate and I'm just going to be an alcoholic lesbian housekeeper for the rest of my life.

At home I heard scratching on the door. It was waggy. His chain broke but we haven't bothered fixing it since he's too fat to go far. He waddled inside, breathing heavily, and collapsed at my feet. My mom laughed because he always looks cheerful but I know he's in pain. I started crying and my mom tried to convince me that he was happy. I knew better. We really need to put him down. Mom is certain that he's fine.

We had a lot of disagreements. It drives me crazy. I'm so used to people with logical arguments and being able to discuss things without someone veering completely off topic. It's so irritating. We were at the store and she kept talking to herself. I really hope she doesn't do that when I'm not around. I was trying to talk to her but she kept reading things out loud.

"Why don't they make raisin oatmeal anymore?"
"dog chow..no...32 plastic, why would they put 32 spoons..tear here...cap'n crunch, what did I need over here...there's the chex..I don't need that.."
"Oh, I should get some chex considering I won't be eating raisin bran ever again"
"Chex is good for...why are there oven mitts by the...oh here do you need 'Raisin Almond Bran Crunch'"
"Are you even listeining to me?"
"Yeah I am, you said 'Why don't they make raisin oatmeal anymore"

Space Cadet.

I'm losing patience with her. I don't want to see her for a long time.
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Mood: irritated

evie Map Quiz Oct 30th, 2008 2:17:57 am - Subscribe
I cleaned all weekend. The house looks fantastic. All except the sink. She left a million dishes behind. All just soaking there. The hamburger helper skillet has obtained a soul and threatens me sometimes.

I put Puzzle in foster care since she is abusive towards him. I spend most of my time there as well.

She left on Friday. My weekend was amazing. I felt great, I had no qualms with sobriety.

Monday her status read: Chelsea feels guilty about skipping class because she absolutely dreads going back to Hays.

Good for her.

Tuesday I came home hoping Chelsea would either have her dishes done or at least be making more in a cheery mood, thanking me for cleaning the house. Neither. She was in her room, on the phone with boyfriend, like usual. Sink monster growling at my entrance. My tablecloth was on my bed, a new festive one was on the table. Didn't know what that meant. I went to Chris's and slept four hours. I woke up, and got ready to leave, he walked in I mentioned that something happened but I didnt remember what. I suddenly remembered and I very comically explained the tablecloth ordeal. He laughed and I went home to obtain pajama pants. I saw Lucas's and Megan's car at the house so entered upstairs and gave the same performance. Megan, who has no sense of humor laughed at my finale. I grabbed my pants and left. On the way home a wave of panic overwhelmed me and as soon as I reached Chris's, I went straight for the alcohol. I had just enough vodka and orange juice to take the edge off. I felt indifferent to what had happened. She left sarcastic comments inquiring about the absence of Puzzle on facebook. I decided my diet coke didn't have enough vodka.

Today I felt irrationally sad all day. I couldn't stop thinking about drinking. I tried to take a nap. I went to the bathroom and started crying. Just a little at first. After a few minutes I thought I was done. Then I grew hysterical. I sat on the floor, tearing my hair out, wailing. I rolled around on the floor sobbing for about an hour. When I finally wore myself out I went out for a smoke.

"Chelsea has come to the conclusion that Grampa no longer exists. Just Rachel and even that is questionable."

I sped home with several questions:
What did I do wrong?
What do you want me to do?
Who am I now?
How can you tell?
I'm never around.

She wasnt home, I texted Chris "Her facebook status" and was surprised to find a response from Chelsea. I texted the wrong person. I told her I figured we needed to talk but she said she wouldn't be home. I left her a letter in her room. It wasn't a nasty letter. Just telling her about how I'm sad all the time, how she can put me on edge and how I have absolutely no idea what I did wrong.

I went back to Chris's. I brought vodka.

This is the most tension between me and another person since I lived with my mom. I hate drama. I hate sobriety. I wish this all wasn't so lame. I wish this pathetic squabble wasn't the reason I want to drink. I wish I had something worthwhile to talk about in counseling instead of this jr. high bullshit.

A week and three days. I am absolutely pathetic.
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Mood: disgusted

evie Torgo Fan Club Oct 20th, 2008 8:45:05 pm - Subscribe
One week without alcohol. I just about cried. Mostly because I would need mild intoxication to obtain the security sleep with my alcohol counselor.

What?

He's like, you've already fought 2/3 of the battle.

"go me."

He reminded me of Bryce. A highly unattainable Bryce. I could easily fuck him. He would never lower himself, however. I think sleeping with your client is somewhat looked down upon.

I have to go back on Thursday then probably again on Friday. I also have to go in for testing again next week. Fucking consuming my life.

I have to write a paper but I don't know what to do. I've discovered how little I know about writing. Boundaries and guidelines paradoxically provide great freedom for me.

Jeremy is in Texas seeing Weezer without me. He told me he considered kidnapping me and although I would have found that incredibly hot, there is so much I have to do this week that determines whether I pass or fail college.

I'm listening to Green Day. I bet you think I'm cool.
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Mood: wrong

evie Popcorn Attack Oct 15th, 2008 4:57:26 am - Subscribe
There will always be the other guys.

I need to end this torturous dillusion I'm putting him through. I feel as though I can't live without him. I act like his moving closer to me will suddenly end all my problems. I labor under this idea that he will cease my alcoholism and my lust for others. Like as if I will suddenly stop drinking and running into the arms of strangers if I have him to run to. But it is he I run from. For as long as we have been dating, I have been cheating. Even when we lived in the same town. It is all I know. I can't force him to move here, since it would not be in his best interest. I want what's best for him, yet, who am I to determine that? I know I'm not what is best for him. I know that I have caused him more pain than he could experience with any other girl. I say this out of sheer conceit. I am everything he thought he ever wanted and I gave myself to him. I gave in to his wishes, knowing that I would not be true. We made an agreement that I was to belong to him and he to me. I allowed him believe that he was the only one in my arms.

I have no right to be angry with him. I can't make him move here. He needs to get as far from me as possible. He needs a pretty girl who will not destroy him. Who will not drink or sleep around.

If he moved here, I would still drink, I would still engage in promiscuous sex. Perhaps I want him to know, perhaps he needs to see who I really am so that he can find the strength to do those things he needs to do in order to grow into who he really wants.

I need to finish my paper.
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Mood: nauseous

evie Sun Queen Oct 14th, 2008 8:16:40 pm - Subscribe
I pretty much never stop thinking about sex. I was watching Doogie Howser reruns and I just kept wishing that he would roger his former baby sitter so I didn't have to create a sex scene in my head to masty to.

Sometimes I wonder if there is something seriously wrong with me or if this is the way all 20 year old girls feel. Maybe I should stop being so open about my sexuality. I can't imagine such topics considered polite, even this day in age.

When I first lost my virginity, there was a small list of people I would like to sleep with. Now there is an even smaller list of people I wouldn't sleep with. Mostly because I've discovered that alcohol makes sex a lot less awkward.

So Doogie was all tryin to jam his baby sitter and it reminded me of Bryce. How he was all like, this is a dream come true, everything I ever knew about beauty I learned from you. Lalala. Ahh, I want to do Clem.

New shoes would be in order.

Neil Patrick Harris makes me incredibly wet. Is that appropriate? Should I refrain from mentioning that in class? Or perhaps at work, or to my roommates? I don't understand why guys are allowed to talk about "boning" girls. I mean, sure, some guys are totally turned on when a girl speaks of her body's response to arousal but for the most part, people are creeped out. Especially girls. When guys talk about demolishing vagina, they high five in agreement. When I mention wanting to fuck someone, girls stare at me like the idea of sex has never crossed their mind.

Who wouldn't do Doogie Howser? I guess it's kind of a no-brainer. Girls refuse to agree because it's kind of a universal feeling.

My stomach is killing me.
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evie A Day in the Life of my Phone Oct 13th, 2008 10:33:29 pm - Subscribe


















0 Comments
Mood: Sick

evie Entitlement Oct 12th, 2008 9:05:46 pm - Subscribe
His eyes turn green when we have sex.

When I told him this he said it must be the light because mine appear to turn yellow. I've heard that before. Usually when I'm angry though.

I like sleeping with him because I can actually look in his eyes. I'm angled in such a way that makes sex impossible without being pressed against him. The moment I got off work, we were in bed. He insisted upon buying me chili as he knows they don't give me a lunch break. We went to walmart where I allowed him to purchase unnecessary items for his girl. Returning to an empty house we took a shower. Neither of us could handle the arousal of naked wetness so we ran to my room dripping wet and went for another round.

He read to me from his new favourite book, Catch-22. I decided he needed to read Yellow Wallpaper so I made him read it to me. He grew tired so I took over. I smiled when I reached parts where John referred to his wife as "little girl" and when he carried her upstairs to read to her when he found her behavior unsatisfactory.

We laid on my bed. My legs wrapped around him. Somewhere during bouts of passionate kissing and playful caressing we decided we should have sex again. At this point we were quite loud and rough and didn't hear Lucas and Megan upstairs and if I hadn't gotten so exhausted and decided to switch at that exact moment, we wouldnt have heard Chelsea come in.

He was on top of me, trying desperatly not to make the bed creak. We whispered and giggled, I bit down on his ear as the most intense pleasure flowed through. I stared into his eyes, resisting the urge to tell him that I loved him while we attempted this new proceedure.

It slipped.

He laughed at me and said "You don't mean that, little girl" so I grinned and said "I love you in me, I love it when you fuck me nice and slow" He laughed again, quite nervously this time. I appologized for talking dirty but I'm fairly certain he didn't mind. We laughed about how dorky we are, trying to be quiet, not to disturb my roommate or creep out my brother.

I don't think we were fucking at this point.

I was frantically trying to find a white shirt for work and I found an unfamiliar one. I smelled it, sure enough, it was Jeremy's. I laid back on my bed, inhaling the scent. How I miss him.

I still haven't fucked Peewee.

I will never get better.

I wonder if maybe I am a nympho.
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evie Hearts Oct 5th, 2008 8:55:25 pm - Subscribe
Chelsea's status on facebook is "Chelsea is really fucking tired of babysitting."

I'm about 90% sure she's talking about Puzzle so I changed my status to "Rachel thinks if it's that big of a deal, you can close your door, it should be fine by itself."

Then I realized how lame that was so I took it off.

But seriously, why is it that big of a deal? She was so gung ho about getting a cat now she wants nothing to do with it.

I'm so angry with everyone. I think I might go fuck Nick and Kathy tonight. Nick propositioned last night but I was too busy trying to score Josh and some kids from my high school. The results varied on this day. I am quite pleased, however.

So I'm starting to see a trend with people who "care" about me. They always end up fucking me or trying to fuck me or drugging me before fucking me or talking about fucking me while fucking someone else.

Except Mrs Gould.

Seriously, I hate games. I'm tired of people thinking they have to win me over with silly white lies and promises of better days.

words about the girls and the lovers and the heartbeats

So I'm pretty unstable. It's not a secret. I'm at a pretty vulnerable point in my life. Some know better. Those people don't know everything about me. Just enough to distinguish that fine line.

I went to work with black marker all over my face. I slept on my hands which were proudly proclaiming my youth. I was the last one done at work. Jennifer gave me two extra rooms in addition to making me strip hers. Either that was punishment for "not cleaning the floors" or she's pissed that I'm working with a hangover.

Everyone enjoys watching me struggle.
0 Comments
Mood: flustered

evie Warm Ginger Ale Oct 5th, 2008 7:40:03 am - Subscribe
I can fall for many men. I can enter a room and immediately love a stranger. I can follow their stare and make it my own. I love whoever loves me. I love them with my breasts and with my lips. I love them with my hands, my fingertips, raising tiny portions of skin. I love them with my long hair that smells of fresh sex. I can make the worthless feel as though he had done something fantastic to deserve such splendor.

Some take me as I am. Some accept my deeds as they are intended. Some ask for breakfast, some ask for more.

These folks are hurt tremendously. They are the ones who I fear the most.

Traffic cones and blow jobs among those who have hurt me. I empty my sorrows into strangers. Sex is an elegy for my heart.

Clouded intentions.

Jeremy and I masturbated via webcam today. It was incredibly hot. I never thought either of us were capable of such an act.

My body does not belong to him. My body belongs to the tortured men of this town. My once battered heart is being mended by him though his distance destroys me. His attempts have won me over before. He touches me the way no others do. He achieves the depth inside, farther than any cock could ever reach.

I'm so tired of this life. I imagine it is time to end this routine.

Puzzle had a cut on his head. Chelsea slammed him in the door the other day. I hate her. This feeling inside is so frightening, unlike anything I've ever felt.
0 Comments
Mood: generous

evie Puzzle Oct 2nd, 2008 3:47:51 am - Subscribe
Me and my new baby.





And again.
0 Comments
Mood: Nervous

evie 211A Storage Sep 30th, 2008 9:25:04 pm - Subscribe
To accept a gift or a compliment seems like a frightening thing to most. Mostly because they feel indebted to the other person.

"I like your hat,"
"Why thank you, I like your shoes."

I don't really like her shoes.

He bought me dinner, now I have to buy him lunch. Now why did she buy me this ridiculously expensive piece of merchandise, she knows I can't afford to get her anything this nice.

Often I would much rather buy someone a tank of gas than listen to them bitch about it but people would rather bitch than allow me to purchase something for them. I try to accept things with a smile, but allow the other to know I'm incredibly broke and frugal, not to mention reluctant to make purchases in order to make people happy or to balance out the universe. Does that make me a user? Not if I don't ask for it.

Compliments make me uneasy. When people tell me I'm cute, I have half a notion to retort with "nuh uh" or "Seriously? I look awful today, I'm like, the chubbiest person here, my acne itches today so my face is probably even more red than normal and I didn't bother straightening my hair so it probably has wacky waves in the back and this shirt isn't exactly flattering on me and it enhances my fat because it's too tight and my jeans give me total muffin-top and the gap in my teeth is particularly annoying at the moment and my nose ring makes me look like a bull, my arms are really fat and I have farmers tan because I always forget to wear sunscreen and I'm pretty much a midget"

But I usually just say, Thanks, you do too.
When Jeremy is around I always ask him if I'm cute. I like to act surprised when he says 'yes' even though I secretly notice his boyish eyes gazing at me like an unopened present.

Today I jotted down a sexual fantasy about Dr. Goodlett. I don't think anyone noticed me staring at him, rocking back and forth in my seat. I've always had a problem with masturbation. I'm pretty pissed that my vibrator hasn't been working.

So yeah, instead of taking notes, I wrote about how badly I'd like to boink my professor. Not just how much I'd like to, but how I'd like to do it. Every dirty little thing I'd like to do to him. I wonder if he would want more than dirty sex.

I bought a new adapter and pizza pan. The adapter didnt work any better than the last. I cried. I'm going to ask my parents for a cd player for my car. I hate those certain material items I can't live without.

This is the most self-control I've ever displayed. I know he wants my ballz so for days, I've been debating whether or not to just lay one on him. Many things hold me back but the main reason is, we would see the kiss in two different ways. I would see it as an animalistic impulse, relieving chemical desires. He, on the other hand, would expect more. Perhaps a deeper level of companionship filled with even more expectations and commitment and devotion and monogamy blah blah blah.

I should have been a guy. Considering how much I love pussy. It's just that most girls want all that fuzzy, gooey, lovey-dovey, tell-me-how-you-feel crap.

I guess I'm glad I'm a girl. I'm getting good at fucking and leaving before they wake. Throwing the emotional guys' lives out of orbit in the meantime.
1 Comments
Mood: vain

evie Wolf Spiders Sep 29th, 2008 2:46:06 am - Subscribe
When I was in preschool we did an exercise where we would each get one marshmallow. We were given the option to eat it now, or wait five minutes and receive five more. I chose to eat mine now. I sat there, five minutes later and watched all my friends stuffing five marshmallows into their tiny faces. They tried to make me feel as though I had made the biggest mistake of my life; however, I was satisfied with my decision and content with my one marshmallow. I had gotten what I wanted, when I wanted it. I had the fantastic memory of the instant gratification lasting only a moment.

Is it poor judgement if your decision, though viewed as unfavorable by others, ends up satisfactory to your tastes? Only if you are unsure of the outcome prior to your actions. If this is the case and you're still pleased with the results, kudos.
1 Comments
Mood: fulfilled

evie Bollocks Sep 27th, 2008 9:07:56 pm - Subscribe
I'm pretty sure it's because the last person I trusted beat the crap out of me. He wanted to take care of me, at least that's what he said. That's why I never get too close.

That's why Jeremy calls me "little girl," why Yellow Wallpaper didn't seem all that weird to me. It's why he reads to me and buys me things and constantly tells me I'm pretty. Why he has to tell me not to eat things, like tape and glitter.

I sleep all the time, drink when no one is looking, put coins in my mouth and color on myself. I fuck everyone but refuse to acknowledge any feeling for them. I cheat and I make half ass attempts on everything because I'm too afraid to take myself seriously.

I tried to grow up and "find myself" in such a big damn hurry. It has completely stunted my maturity.


Case in point.
0 Comments
Mood: Sleepy

evie Crazy for this Girl Sep 27th, 2008 5:00:46 am - Subscribe
I'm so scared I could cry. I don't know why. Panic attacks are the stupidest thing ever invented.

People are laughing and shouting upstairs and I feel like I'm missing out but if I were up there, I would wish I was blogging.

This girl was all waa waa waa, your cousin never talks to me, why do I always have to be the one to talk to him? Adam basically told me that they only

Fuck it this is boring.

I drank a lot this evening. My cousin Pat pissed me off to the nth degree. Fuckfuckfuck. I kept talking about doing girls and stuff like I normally do when I'm drunk and he's like dude stop it. Then this kid was all imma poke you and I'm like thaz dirty and pat's all "DUDE FUCKING stop" and he was serious as hell. He was pissed and it was dumb.

Are they knocking for me?

Did I enjoy myself? Prolly. I just don't want to work tomorrow, I'm freaking out.

I miss Jeremy. He would get me a glass of water. I'm going to pretend he did. Oh, how nice, I'm not thirsty anymore.

Dude, you're fucking loud, shut the hell up, man!

This guy was upstairs and I tried to hit on him and failed. I fucking love sex. I wish I was fucking right now.

Shannon and I were sitting on the porch, trashed, and she told me I was cute and she wished she could be cute like me. I told her she was cute and that we're the cutest girls in the house. She agreed and we giggled about our new theory, joking but knowing good and well it was true. She said Chelsea wasn't cute and that's why she has so many body modifications and why she spends so much time on her appearance. Because she's simply not as cute as we are.

Trashing others is entirely healthy to those with poor self esteem.

I miss everyone I used to know. I feel so wrong at the moment. I don't feel like these are the people who should be in my life. I want to go back to the way things were. I want high school. I miss having Eric having Clem over and longing for him. I miss the days when fucking Eric's friends was just a silly fantasy that was so impractical and I knew it. I miss the days when they were out of my league and I would cry myself to sleep over it.

I miss the justifiable hurting.
And the unjustifiable hurting where I could cry myself into a better state of mind.

I miss being able to cry. When did that end?

And since when do I play drinking games?

Who the hell are you?

Ahh, menstruation.

Music, you hurt me the most. Isn't it insane how much you affect me? Three helicopters. Count em. I talked to them, no one was around. I yelled for them to shine their lights on me I told them I was intoxicated and attempted to get into my car. Well it was actuallly the passenger side of Shannon's car but still. They would not listen to reason.

Fuckers, what were they doing anyway?

I mean, seriously! What are they trying to prove, flying around like that? When I grow up, I want to be in charge of the spotlight on helicopters.
0 Comments
Mood: WHAT?

evie Someone to Take Care of You Sep 26th, 2008 1:48:29 pm - Subscribe
I only threw up a small portion of the mound of chocolate pancakes I devoured. I can be so cool sometimes.

Why do people assume that just because I'm insane I need someone to watch over me? Gould mentioned that once, how I need to stop taking care of Eric and let someone take care of me. Stupid bitch offered but where the hell is she now?

Dammit she was hot.

I started this morning. It pretty much killed me when I realized I didn't have any tampons. I found these "Ultra Thin Overnight Pads" (???) they feel like a thin strip of cardboard between my legs. We'll see how these work.

I wanted to die when I saw twenty-two cents lying next to me.

Literally, not some creepy rapper or rap-enthusiast.

Homework still isn't done. I'm such a fucking idiot. My stomach is killing me. Roommate makes me want to leave all her dishes outside.

Seriously, who leaves for KC with a sink/kitchen full of dishes? Who does that? I need to finish the rest of mine in the bathtub.

Class is going to hurt. I should have done my presentation last time. I might skip bio and sleep away the part of the day that I cannot drink away.

Modest Mouse, you're my only friend. I love how I jack your lyrics and incorperate them into everything I'm saying. Kudos for being amazing as hell, all the time. Now you can't get on my ass for plagiarism or copyright infringement.

I don't want to do this. I can't do this.
0 Comments
Mood: Sick

evie Contradictory Story-Topper Sep 22nd, 2008 3:48:12 am - Subscribe
I'm having trouble keeping track of what time of the year it is. Seasons seem to keep jumping back and forth. Allergies have been acting up so it feels like spring.When I go to school I can't tell what time of the year it is. It doesn't feel like fall because the leaves are green. I'm cold all the time, which never happens so that's confusing as well. Work feels like summer. Pumpkins tell me otherwise.

My head hurts quite often now. I'm not prone to headaches. Also, my knees have been aching from work and it makes me nausious to walk on my right foot.

I'm only 20. I'm acting much older right now. And much younger at the same time.

I don't really feel anything tonight.

I've started journaling about all the things that piss me off about my roommate. Instead of complaining to everyone or running to my brother when she's mean, I just write it all down. Then when she leaves we can all sit around and read my favourite entries.

Writing it down before telling someone really helps. I get a chance to sort my thoughts and gain perspective before I go blabbing about my problems. I'm hoping this process makes me a more pleasant person to be around.

Do I really hate her?



I forgot to put on underwear today.
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