alicia (fuzzdecay) wrote,

it won't be 2000 for too much longer. another year in a never ending succession of years. one year closer to my ultimate happiness. i went to bed at 5 this morning after a harrowing experience involving a book and a dire need to piss. i was woken at 9 to the howls of my fat bitch. i was kicked out of my house as a result of this inconsequential thing. i was out with cab until noon. i've been up since 9 on 4 hours of sleep. i'm not a happy alicia. my head feels like it's about to fucking explode and my only claim to happiness is lost to me. i feel like crying and i can. i feel like laughing and i can't. hell, i wish i could even smile. i can't turn around or i'll get even more sleepy and i don't wanna leave now. i'm listening to stinkfist and the great below. i'm wondering where the bloody fuck john is. i'm hoping he'll show up. if he doesn't i'm not going to be a pleasant alicia the rest of the evening. i believe i'm rambling. i'm not remembering what i'm saying as i type it. maybe this is a signal that i need sleep in the worst way. time to defy my body again. it's funny how the models of human perfection in appearance are such ugly people. true, aesthetics is everything but not at that price. if i could get a good personality with an aesthetically pleasing person i'd be a happy alicia. or have i already found that? do i even really exist? if not why do i bother pondering thse things? i'd like to think i have a purpose and that i exist but is there really any way to prove that. right now i feel brutally alive. pain's leaking from ever god damned pore of my body. my head just won't stop. it's so overwhealming, but i think that's just because i'm exhausted. why do i sit here when i could be asleep? oh wait. i know why. and am i being rewarded for this? no i'm not. some guy called me yesterday during an important phone call looking for a hook up. i told him i was taken and that all my friends are male or hermaphrodites. i don't think the hick knew what a hermaphrodite was. i've been connected to the net for 10 hours. waiting the entire time. why do i do this? why? are the rewards really worth it? yes. oh maybe that's why i do it then. dammit i'm starting to sound schizophrenic. maybe i am. maybe i'm living on a speck of dust in the corner of a large room. maybe blue is purple and purple is actually black. maybe laughing actually means you're sad. we could have been miseducated from the day we were born. we wouldn't know the difference. look at christians for a prime example of this. actually christianity is more of a contradiction. they believe in a big invisible supernatural guy that's called god and yet they preach that supernatural things are the work of satan. so is god actually satan? is my giant pickle alive? christmas is a bunch of fucking bullshit. i hate family holidays almost as much as i hate valentine's day. timmy should be quite happy that i've rambled this long. he likes long entries. he's probably the only one who reads this anyways. i doubt anyone gives a shit about how i feel. hey here's something: if you read this go to my guestbook and write "the giant pickle has spoken, you must all die now". you don't gots to but it'd be nice to see if people actually read this. i'm going to depart and wait quietly now. lates.
Tags: boyfriends past and present, emo, i hate south georgia, inconsiderate fucktards, psychotic grandma, xmas is lame

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