I have you ever forgot why you loved something but you say you love it anyhow? Or like how you care about something but you don't really have a reason to care about it or anything. Shit is so weird I swear. I’m just hanging out in my room, skeed as fuck. But I’m barely skeed now, I’m just high. I’m not really feeling drunk anymore.
I have two people in my room, Jackie and Felicia, and it’s 2:54am on June 28, 2009. I’m just hanging out though. We’re all doing different stuff. I’m writing down EVERY SINGLe thing that pops into my head. Jackie is playing viva piñata and we were talking about how guys play video games and they won’t even talk at all. They just sit there in dead silence for hours on end playing something like, gears of war or like call of duty, with three other boys and they don’t speak one fucking word. That would be so damn boring. Felicia, is listening to the music.
I feel like I’m going to puke and as if my fingers keep moving and moving. Boy, it’s tickling my muscles.
They’re just moving and moving. And the sound of feet collecting static is pretty nice for my ears. And seeing my room like completely clean for once is a pretty good feeling for sight.
I’m happy. Everything is so…enhanced. Everything I’m believed is coming real. I’m traveling through different parallels. Right now I’m just chilling but it’ll change real soon I can feel it switching over. We’re all just having a typical slumber party right now but I can see myself through the tunnel of my eye sight and I’m just laying there sleeping like sleeping beauty. I can see myself surrounded with nature but I keep switching back to reality. I guess you can tell reality with I guess fantasy, but I’d say it’s imagination.
Imagination is so powerful, probably even more power than the real. Imagination is good or bad. Nice or terrifying. Sweet or salty. It’s however you think it is and you can always change it later on at any time of day anywhere. But in reality everything is just real. It’s happening and you can’t change it. Once time consumed it, it can’t spit it up. It’s all in the past and once it’s done the memory is up. Then it’s over. And every lives up to all the memories because once they let go, where will you go? You just hold anything you can so you have something to support you.
My heart is hurting kind of. I keep thinking I swallowed the back on my lip piercing and that’s why my heart hurts. Because what if I just die? Right here, with my friends here, what will the even do. I’d probably sit there laughing my ass off like ‘uh, what the fuck?’ not realizing what is going on. Anyways, I think the plastic part went into my heart. And now a chamber in my heart with collapse. And I’ll die kind of Michael Jackson.
It’s a shame that he died too. I miss him and I’m realizing what a fucking legend he is. His music was completely fucking amazing, I swear. It’s 3:20am but anyways I can’t believe he diad. But if I died I’d be able to see him and talk to Michael. That’s what I’m going to do when I’m dead.
I wonder what being dead feels like. I wish we had people to tell us what is going to happen but they’re all dead so you can’t ask a dead person fucking shit.
I’m tired as fuck and I wish I could write more than what I am. All I want to do is finish drinking my bomb ass chocolate fucking milk and then curl up with this zebra blanket and enjoy the world spinning away.
When I close my eyes and imagine the America flag I can feel the glitter I my eyes.
Fuck all of this, fuck you.
1 comment:
the last sentence kills me. you're so silly.
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