peach licorice roundup

there's lots going on but nothing feels significant. the world gets boring really quickly when you stop looking for the hidden meaning in everything. let's see...don't remember monday, don't remember tuesday, i look at the calendar but it's december now so that doesn't help and i'm too lazy to stand up and look back. don't remember wednesday. thursday* i saw some good dancing, and the cute boy in the coffee shop gave me two cookies when i only paid for one, which was a nice bonus since it was my dinner. i chose the one with hazelnuts, for protein. (*edit - a lie - thursday was disco night, and friday came next with cookies and the like).

friday i wrote this, but was too lazy to post: it was such a gift for me to find out that there was a difference between being intuitive and being crazy. but now i have learned that being intuitive counts for shit/is a curse when the world is full of people who don't want to know. i realized today that's what i love about teaching - people pay to hear what i see that they can't. (i actually got an email from one of them on the weekend, thanking me for this...proof i'm not crazy, right?).

then i thought i should post the glamorous life by sheila e but i didn't and now i just tried but the only video on youtube has no sound so that's that. silence.

saturday: i used to come here and write because i had hope and i could laugh at myself but now it's not funny or fun, it's just sad. too many tries, too many fails, too many moments of anti-epiphany where i realize that there is a life i am not meant to have...what i find interesting, thinking about who likes me, thinking about being my mother's daughter with the veils of childhood innocence lifted from mine eyes - men who only want to fuck me or have me fix them...i come home from a family afternoon and make a punk rock booty call. sunday i wash my sheets and do battle with a mouse who is disturbed by my invasion of its home inside my home.

monday he uses a word that i haven't heard before. this is significant. little else is these days. i think i said that already. a new old song, maybe...maybe?

pain in my gut, in my head, in my shoulder. forget about the pretty blonde who somehow gets by when i wouldn't. forget about boys who would be perfect if only...fade to black and white. i should sleep.