I think that as I have gotten older, I have found more fascination with the similarities between people rather than their differences. How humans can lead such opposite lives but still have things in common is madness. Extraordinary.
I never saw the very ending of 23. Two hours of my life were put into it, and I don't know how it ends. That makes me angry. So does my nose at this point. I wish I could breathe normally.
You don't have to worry about making your family dislike me. Your grandmother already thinks I am the freaky angry girl because of that play.
do-do-do-do
"The Ragpicker and the Ticketmaster" sounds like a romance novel. You know you meant every word you wrote of that biography.
I am sick of being sad. Don't you wish you could just be done with all unhappiness? It is so possible, but I don't think I ever will. Sometimes, I think, it is necessary to feel sorry for yourself, as horrible as it may be.
Next time you call me (and you will be calling me, no matter what you might say), I will speak in my Brownsbrug Public Library voice for a while, if it would make you happy.
I hope you are studying for your Algebra II test. If you didn't remember, I will kill you in a very creative fashion.
Thinking clearly would become boring. Who would like to have organized thoughts? That would be no fun. AH! I just put my head back and closed my eyes, hoping to breathe, but I choked on my snot and my eyes started watering like crazy. I need more medication.
Ah, Abby, no one would intentionally hurt your feelings. I think that is impossible. You are much too positive about people, too optimistic about everyone.
Sketch out plans and make blueprints? This is going to be hard-core. I love it, though. This truly has to happen.
You are going to earn all A's, Abby. Do the Health extra credit. Now. It would also probably help if you showed up to class. Nine A.M. tomorrow. Be ready. If it helps, it is a secret.
You should not ever go into my head. I think you might be surprised. Probably not. There is not an ounce of mystery in this mind.
Independence: freedom from the contol, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others.
Confidence: belief in the powers, trustworthiness, or reliability of a person or thing.
I am growing away from my dictionary. Sometimes, it angers me, because words mean much more than what they are summed up into in the dictionary.
If I had a death clock, I would personally become so entirely wrapped up with the date of my death that I wouldn't be able to enjoy anything. It would be like some huge pressure to do things in this given period of time. Wait. That kind of is what life IS.
That would be really cool. You could have connections with everyone. Weird ones too. Like, my great-grandfather's co-worker's mistress stole a tofu burger from your sister's best friend's cousin-in-law. Hmm...
I thought you would like to know that I have run out of Kleenex and, being too lazy to remove myself from this chair, have begun to use my sleeve. I know I do that anyway, but this time it is really gross.
It is good that you are ready for life. I don't feel like I am right now. Right now, I am not even ready to study for Algebra. I am not ready to play my cello. I am not ready to sketch, or talk to anyone, or smile. I am only ready to breathe through my mouth and read.
I finally got up to grab some toilet paper with which to blow my nose, but, for some reason, I spaced out until I found myself knocking on the closet door.
What is January 24th, and what had been three months? I feel like I should know this, but I have absolutely no idea. I apologize. I might think of it in a couple of hours. I think I am dying.
Woah. I am going to do something. What, I am unsure. Probably grab some math homework to attempt to review, only to grab my book again.
Good-bye.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment