5:05 pm - Sunday, Sept. 08, 2002
Song:
Something is endlessly drawing me here, as if the few days I misplaced the writer in me feel a need to fly out right now.
I want to wish myself older, and then I would treat myself to wine coolers right now with my $12 and incureable sweet tooth. But I'm lazy and not at all interested in standing out side the grocery store and asking people to buy it for me. Whats the point when you're alone, anyway.
Talking about pot today, my dad said I was too smart because I said if I was growing, i would give it to friends to sell for a percentage, and I knew the cost of a good 8th and a bad 8th.
I'm in high school for gods sake, I never buy my own pot, but going to school with stoners breeds some knowlege into you.
I hardly know what to do with myself after finishing all homework early and helping paint the house. Though I have chores, the need to write is just a tad bit stronger.
I hate frequent headaches like the one tortureing me currently and I wonder what brings about this wannabe vertigo. I almost long for a pool, though I know I will cry and cough when I finish a 300 tomorrow at waterpolo.
I'm not used to being bad at sports, and now I'm playing something that kills me to warm up for.
I'm a soccer player, a basketball player, and I'm playing a sport I feel lost in. But somehow that is refreshing.