real is love

5:20 p.m. x 2003-02-23

my mother just had a tantrum and slammed her door because my sister and i couldn't agree on what we wanted for dinner. that's incredibly, amazingly stupid. dinner for k@ri this evening. my speech is due tuesday and i still haven't drawn everything for it yet, nor has it been rehearsed nor will it end up being...i feel like a mushroom by default. all the stupid shit going on is hindering my productivity. i feel busy and happy and productive when i'm creating, not when i'm drooling on a desk or arguing over meal options.

and i'm so SICK of hearing about my room. my mom and dad are never in their own room (together or seperate), they're in either the kitchen (mom) or the garage (dad), and are those places 100% clean? NO! cause they're BUSY in there, same with my room. i'm working and reading and living in there it's going to get slightly unkept every three goddamned days. i don't go out every day and i'm tired a lot so i stay in and i do things...the room isn't going to always be spotless. i have no desk anymore because i needed an extra bookshelf, things must go on the floor.


on a completly different subject of sadness/pissed-off-ed-ess, this describes exactly my position in the lives of a few of my loved ones right now...

kinda scary. i think i know how paul felt when john said "i want a divorce".

okay, now i know i must sound very weird about that. the beatles thing, you know. i think in terms of metaphors, and the stronger i can relate a situation to myself the more i like it. john was a possessive, overbearing little lunatic (*points to herself*). paul was his partner and they let the bad stuff and the arguments get in the way of what they really had, ringo was the one he related back to and was always able to talk to regardless, and george was the best friend he failed. that fucking might as well be me, sara, rachel/brittany, and amanda. except we didn't write anything near the caliber of "yesterday" (yet).

*huff* well, okay, i've vented. i still feel fucked up but i'm a bit more alright with the fuck-up-ed-ness than i was that's about it, i'm going to go watch amelie or something. that's a beautiful little movie, even if it is in the sadistic language french.

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)

anybody can be just like me, obviously.
not too many can be like you, fortunately.
KL 02-11