1:45 pm - Sunday, May. 05, 2002
Song:
Written:
I like black paper and gell pens. My heart feels like it's jumping in my mouth. Wanna touch it? Too hot, too hot. My hands are shaking. I had alot of caffine, but really, that's all. My handwritting is big and loopy. It looks like this when I get in one of 'those' moods in which I'm too hot and sleepy and think about killing people. The pen is green. But not really. Really it is blue. But thats beside that point. I want to father your children, but I don't have the appendeges with which to do so. Smile. You look cuter. Wait, nevermind, I take that back. I'm so fucking happy I could cry. I am slamming the end of my pen on the paper. It's not tapping it's slamming. My hands are covered in glow-in-the-dark glue. I spent the last hour decorating Nell's walls and part of the ceiling with it. Hold me. I need to be held. Orgasam. I spelt that wrong... or did I. I miss an a. Fuck an a. The diet pepsi can says 'same great taste'. I beg to differ. There was never a good taste to begin with. Could you drown in the fountain of youth? Would it be wrong to make-out with random guys on the bus. Am I cute enough? Fuck you. I am me, and that's good enough. TAKE ME! Hold steady, steady, steady. I can't. (drawing of flower). I just drew a flower. Didja know that? My hands itch....
previous : next