December 2009
247 posts
Sometimes, I can really hate myself.
babyshambles- albion
Matt Irwin Photography : crazy. →
Sleep.
I woke up at eleven this morning, but stayed wrapped under my blankets listening to Anthony Green. My dad walked in at around 12:30, and said “you know what time it is?i’m going to take your phone away if it keeps you from going to bed early.” He doesn’t understand that because he’s grounded me, I can’t find anything good to look forward to. There’s...
Fml.
Phone calls.
I’m always receiving phone calls from the most annoying people. Rejecting a phone call is obvious, so I always let it reach my voicemail. I don’t like phone conversations because they are uncomfortable and akward; people don’t seem to get that. Especially “Date Rape.” He doesn’t seem to understand i’m not down to hang out, no matter how long I ignore him.
Watchmmm.
this is how life should be lived, thanks lindsay. ;)
getting down.
12/whateverday/09.
Today, I’m seeing a friend of mine and I don’t feel like dressing up for him. Last night, I separated my hair, wet, until small pieces and braided each individual piece. (I had my extensions, so it was mostly my fake hair that I could braid). I slept looking like like the old school Alicia Keys. This morning, I remove the braids, to find out my hair had turned into chaos. My hair looks...
Fuck the weed.
So, I made myself hot cocoa, and walked upstairs in my room. I sat down, and checked my phone for new text messages. Three hours later, while i’m texting friends, I look up and see my hot cocoa. -_- I completely forgot about it. Now it’s more like chocolate milk and i’m pissed. My short term memory is really messed up. Thanks a lot, marijuana.
Dirt.
It smells in here. Reeks of unshowered, greasy teenagers. I wouldn’t be suprised if a dead rat is rotting away under a couch somewhere too, oblivious to all the mischief happening around it. That image brings a small smile to my bored face. “Ana, you’re here!” a voice behind me calls. Sturdy hands pull my waist for an embrace, and I soon realize who the hands and voice...
I'm grounded. Again.
So, it’s around midnight and a friend of mine and myself are in his car laying down, just hanging on the top of daycreek. We’ve been there for a while, doing normal teenage stuff. Suddenly, strong headlights are directed to us, and a cop arrives beside the door. He asks us our age,my friend responds eighteen- I (doomed) respond seventeen. The atmosphere quickly gets tenser, and the cop...
