2004-11-28 - 2:32 p.m.
"I know my life is going nowhere. I know because my friends are there. They're nowhere. I fiend for life and I grieve for life, and I breed for life." - The Enemies, "Parallels of the Porcupine"
So last night I had this crazy urge to actually watch TV, and after indulging in the Gilmore Girls episode with quite possibly the best line, I switched it over to CMT. They were counting down the 20 sexiest country men/women. Brian McComas didn't make the list. George Strait did. Some vile, blatant discrepancies there. At least Gretchen Wilson and Terri Clark made the list.
Every time I try to watch myself, I can't. I'm fixated on you. You're such an attractive guy, the way the edges of your eyes crinkle when you grin, and how your hair is so perfectly tousled. You look my way in passing by, and it burns. You'd look so damn hot in a skirt. You're neapolitan.
It shouldn't be "Born to Be Wild". Let's make it "Bjorn to Be Wild" for them crazy Swedes who write all those catchy pop songs.
I really am pretty unpretty. These things I say, the words I write, the thoughts in my head - they're all so marked with "mental" - as in, "Damn, girl, you're mental". I used to want perfection, but now I bring about destruction. I can't tell when and why I perform such acts of stupidity. Fresh flesh wounds. I don't fall; I die, and with good cause.
Hey jealousy, hey morning rain, hey cramps, I think you found me. There's a cd on my desk. It's "Wham! Make It Big". Please go-go without waking me up. People are so sick.
"Hey! She's havin' a hard time. She fumbles with the eyeliner and starts to wonder why she even bothers tryin' when we're all ugly on the inside." - Hickey, "Havana Hard Time"
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