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Jan. 7th, 2005 @ 04:07 am he'd get her a typewriter.
and i am waiting for secret indentations and curves to become more of what i thought i was, so memorize me now, because i am on the verge of pretending to let go. seems like these blankets were so sacred at some point but they are everywhere and i want to know what color her. HIS hair is. what the fuck is this? my feet are cold, because they are low, and tingly because i dont know what to do, maybe. i want to walk somewhere, but the only desired destination has never been in walking distance, and that shouldnt matter, because, most things, well, they just dont. in fourth grade, the teacher made us write down every "i can't" we had, and bury them, im pretty curious, and paranoid. silly. i just want to know everything but i know it would absolutely kill me, or wake me the fuck up. i shouldnt be here. it's that dramatic and simple. and i walk around in my underwear, and enjoy how long my legs are, and wish someone would notice. all i really want in life is a comfortable bed, in a shitty studio apartment, all to myself, or love, but more to myself, i think, i could roll around for days with the idea of having such things, and he used to notice everything i did, and i didnt even bother to allow such flattery to contaminate my insides til now, when it doesnt matter, for maybe, my smile has changed, and i know that my hair falls in my face much differently now, it was longer then, much longer, and always wet in the moments he wishes for, reminds me, he would write about the way i woke up, and how it made him feel when my impulses poured affection onto his face, i know i wake differently now, that summer had it's way of completely soothing me, and any comfort that belonged to me whatsoever was just warm and important. really. really. important. but now i am always so ungrateful when i wake up, and always alone, and never tangled up like i used to be, not in the least, then maybe i was crazy, or perhaps just not crazy enough, now i am probably just far too, hmmm, far too not 16?... but really, this is fucking terrifying. stupid snow covered summer money stealers. and a year ago today? and a year from today? see, so it isnt worth it.

tomorrow i have an interview at wet seal. i need money to pay off the two speeding tickets i got within 1 hour yesterday. i also have to go register for classes. go team.
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From:jonnyshawnstone
Date:January 6th, 2005 08:38 am (UTC)
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If you work at wet seal I'll never speak to you again. They're not even worth my capitalization.
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From:stawbryjacquiri
Date:January 6th, 2005 12:11 pm (UTC)
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my house was always within walking distance until a year ago.... :(
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