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2003 14 November :: 9.38am
:: Mood: amused
:: Music: "Dirty" - Christina Aguilera
Hot, steamy groping sex
why?
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2003 9 November :: 12.37am
:: Mood: exanimate
:: Music: "Knockin' on Heavens Door" Tom Petty (I know, done originally by Bob Marley, redone by Bob Dylan, th
More stats
As of my last post 107 posts, with the last post being on 11-07-03. Wierd huh?
It's been a journey. This last week has been fun. For all of you who have been yelling at me for talking on your journals, I wouldn't have done if I wasn't in a good mood. For you who are geting pissy about it, get over it. Lifes to short to worry about stuff like that. Is it hypocritical? Yes, but I don't care.
Anyways, got to see Ted Nugent Wednesday night. It was awesome. I was watching "Surviving Nugent" today, and I couldn't believe the idiots. (Music has just changed to "Mary Jane's Last Dance- Tom Petty") I guess I'm just priveleged being a Michigan boy with a little common sense. The man offerred the girl food and she said no, because it comprised her beliefs. Unfortunately, we know and she knows, that they won't let her starve. Otherwise, she would not compromise herself straight out of existence.
Last night we had some basketball players from FHN come into work. Little bitchy stuck up snobs. Ashley wanted to kick their asses because they were saying stuff about us. Sure, we work in fastfood, but c'mon. We do make your food, they could at least respect us for that, the little brats. That's about the time that I start singing "Thank God I'm a Country Boy." Well, except for the fact that I am not.
I just cannot get over (Song change: "Do You Feel the Way I Do- Peter Frampton") those people. I know there are a lot of people from California who have their heads screwed on straight, but most of them are just urban nuts. They don't understand anything. I bet 65% of the people in California have never even seen a farm. No wonder America is going down the drain.
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gimmie a ring
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2003 7 November :: 9.48am
:: Music: "The Remedy"
Stats
Well, I've been doing my usual random journal commenting again. Between that and my propensity to have conversations through comment sections, I have amassed nearly 450 comments given out. Now I know this might be trivial, and being like user 200 something I've had a lot of time to produce so many comments, but I think it is significant. I will have a special prize for comment #500.
11 messages |
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2003 3 November :: 8.04pm
:: Mood: okay
:: Music: "Hey Jealousy" Gin Blossoms
Fart
Well. Everyone seems to think it was about suicide. One little sentence, that's what everyone focuses on. It was bound to be misunderstood. It was even misunderstood by someone I was talking to that night, so go figure. Enough about that.
I'm back, all better now, back to my normal self. Well kind of.
The depression can only last for so long with me, and then it's gone again. I swore though, that that night I was going to grind my teeth into oblivion.
So many people. I was thinking about this kid in my Art class a few weeks ago. He said he was from Sparta and his name is Barry. Well when I was, oh, 7,8,9 or something, I met one of Nick Brott's friends named Barry, and he lived over by Lime Lake, which is in the Sparta school district. Well I thought there could be a connection, made a mental note of it. Well, I never remembered to ask Barry if he was Nick's friend. Of course Barry and I met on the first day of classes this semester because it was his first time to the downtown campus and he seemed a little scared. Fortunately we were both going the same place and i got to show him where to go. Fast forward to tonight.
I stop at Taco Bell for dinner (softball seasons coming up and I need to be ready for it when Reed goes there because their food has never set very well with me, I'm not feeling well now). Barry's at the counter with a girl who I later learn is his ex-girlfriend. Anyways, they get their food and sit down and I get my food and sit on the other side of the dining room. It's a small dining room, max 20 people. So he comes over and asks me if I would like to join them. I was slightly embarassed, but he insisted, so I did. Well we started talking about pizza places. He said that he went to school with the sons of Mr. Stein or whatever, at Our Lady of Consulation. That automatically stirred the memort I had because that is where Nick went. So my mental note was called back into action and I completely stunned the kid. He didn't remember that we had met, but I did. We started talking about Nick and it completely blew his mind. He tried to remember me for like 10 minutes and couldn't. It's a small world after all.
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2003 1 November :: 10.17pm
This just isn't me. Why should it be?
So much crap to think about. I don't care anymore.
No I do care. I care too much.
I got so mad for no reason. I just want to go out and beat the living shit out of someone. It's violence I know. I hate violence. But it seems that this is a part of me. I want to say it's a guy thing but I'm not sure that would be true.
Maybe it's because I realize that I just don't fit in anymore. That's something you were always good at Michelle. Your so social it makes me sick. Not in the sick kind of way that I hate it, I just don't know how you do it. Don't say anything back. You don't have to, in fact I don't want you to.
No, I just don't fit. I've thought about it so many times, where I come from and where I'm going. I've got too much brains to be content being a working stiff, but I have too much working class stupidity in me to be snooty.
Not that I really want to be either, but maybe it would be easier. It would be easier either way because then maybe I could let my guard down. I'm just a fly on the wall. Sitting there, hoping no one talks to me. And it pisses me off.
Well no, first it makes me feel lonely. Like I'm the only one in the world. You know those creeping thoughts of suicide that we all have in the back of our minds. Would anyone miss me if I were gone? type things. And then I get pissed at myself for being such an introvert. I get pissed because I can't have fun because I stop myself.
No one knows why. I don't know why. And then I get pissed for sounding like a whiny teenager who doesn't know shit.
And after all is said and done, I could sit here and beat myself up, ball my eyes out. I could scream at God and ask Him why He did this too me. I could be pissed at my parents for raising me like they did. But it still gets me back to the same place: I hate myself for the ass I am. I hate myself for what I've become. I hate myself for my own thoughts. And when it occurs to you that you would be willing to cut off your own nose, just to spite your face, it's either change willingly, or die hating yourself and the rest of the world because you can't survive in it.
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