2005-02-06 - 11:45 p.m.
"Your dishonesty's astonishing. Try growing up for awhile. I pour out my soul as I tell you the truth and you just nod your head and smile." - Diesel Boy, "Bossa Nova"
Excerpt from a concrete Hateful Notebook dubbed yellow #33333: So many revelations, so many breakthroughs, yet I can't bring myself to do it. New, shiny, and unused. Loving it. You just don't expect all of the questions and attention. Everywhere. Here. Near. The fear of drowning in emotions. The intimidation factor is high to break up the monotony. The inflection and intention of your words disgust me. Nowhere does it say we have to do this mechanical dance as we prance around and try to conform.
The answer to the "Will anyone remember my face?" question has been answered. How sweet. [Read: Sarcasm is the blunt object which just struck you.] Pretty pretty, smirking right back at me. All the things you always pretended not to care about are surfacing at an alarming rate.
Pathetic little girl. Shy little girl with her heart locked away tight. Girl with fifteen thousand glares saved for a rainy day. What of it? Maybe if I didn't listen to such noise violence I'd be ok.
I'm starting to realize that I'll never fit in your world. Sad? Very.
Only I would stay up just to paint my nails black. I've abused my nails this way for years now, until finally I saw that the chipping and polish was making my nails even uglier than when I was biting 'em. Moral of the non-story? Be good to your nails by using base coat. Then they won't crack and turn yellow, fool.
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