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Train to the heathen-lands... I sure do not look forward to venturing into the city tomorrow, Monday morning drudgeries, but I have to bring Grandma to her specialist appointment. She has a three hour test that they are doing, so I am to venture off and lose myself in the urban sprawl of suburbia and dismal downtroden slums. Which is exciting, a day off from the real world, and a day of lost looks and loser tags. Excitment? No, I take that back. Just change, change isn't excitement. It's just that...change. I am okay, for those whom care to know, just carrying on with my day to day trivalities . Winning over the hearts of those over the age of seventy... Argh... I love my life. |
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I have been house-ridden and un-adventurous as of late. Grandma is not well and the nurse visits here every morning and once at night. Her spirits are unbreakably high. I wish I shared her optimistic sentiment... I hope to find a summer job soon, school finishes in a few weeks, and soon all the high school kids will have applied and thusly taken all possible employment. I'll drop off resumes tomorrow, I just need to print some off. Maybe at the Vet clinic, a receptionist wouldn't be bad... Maybe at the Library... Who knows? Besides, a teenage hermit doesn't really look fantastic on a resume. I also lack people skills, so maybe the library is a better option. Oh fond temporary memories. |
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Loudly and unshielded. I am so far-gone into this mental meltdown. I need help, a friend, a lover, a life. An excuse to become an alcoholic, an addict, a fuck-up. That's all this. No motivation. No liveliness. No inspiration. I am sick of sex. Sick of hearing about it. Sick of feeling it's after-effects. Sick of losing people to it's addicting qualities. I am so frustrated. So nauseated. So high-strung. I'd be a happier person if I was as naive as I was four years ago. One year ago. Seven months ago, when this shit all started. Damn. Keep it in your pants kids. No one likes an after-school slut special. No matter how special they are to you. Fuck. |