Short and sweet.
The artsy friend.

Overly emotional.
Entirely too dramatic.

Doesn't have a clue.

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"You can't fight the tears that ain't comin
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive."
Goo Goo Dolls

"Don't think we're not serious
When's it ever not?"
Jimmy Eat World

"Because I knew you
I have been changed for good."

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Sunday, July 16, 2006
It was a dark and stormy night!

Monday night, instead of my usual bout with the Internet until the wee hours of the morning, I ended up talking on the phone with Dustyn until arooouuunnnd 6:30. In the AM. Because his power was out. (Man I love cell phones!) It suddenly occurred to me around 5 that I was exhausted and my throat was sore, but I just crawled under my covers and talked more softly for ninety more minutes. We talked about... hmmm... life, I think. We probably went through every event that had happened to us during the past two years, and then some. And the next morning (at 8:30 - it was like a 2-hour nap!), my Mom asked if I'd been talking on the phone all night, and I had to act tired and unabashedly tell her yes. But we both have Cingular, and it fell into the "free nights and weekends" category - so by all rights neither of us should have to pay for it... except me. He's dragged me into the vicious cycle of an offset circadian rhythm. I will not succumb!

I am le sick. It's not very fun at all. Summer colds are the worst, because you're freezing while you're running fever, yet it's TOO HOT OUTSIDE to have soup! You just feel like there is nowhere to turn for comfort! Last night I wanted something warm in my tummy - but I knew if I had anything hot I'd be uncomfortable. But anything cold didn't sound appetizing either! And once you're eighteen, your mom doesn't let you sleep on her bed and bring you Sprite in a sippy cup with a lid! The worst part is that I know I won't be able to go deep underwater when I'm swimming any more, because my sinuses would explode. Curse all viruses ever. Aren't even alive. They're scared to die. Pansies.

Eyes are not the windows to your soul. They are the windows to your retinas. (Really! That's what red-eye is!)

Friday night when I rolled in around midnight, I opened the door to my room and a tragic scene met my eyes. My beautiful blue wall had been adulterated with a horrible turquoise color. My peaceful little mural that my Aunt Karen had done for me, that had faithfully endured my teendom for six years, was half-covered by a thick and glutinous coat of this paint! It was a dark day, my friend. My room isn't long for this world! Woe betide this day!

But I seriously started clearing out. All I can say is Wow. Twelve-year-olds collect tons and tons of shit.

And that I'm very depressed about my room getting painted over. It'll be like I never even lived there. Man. The blue and the clouds - that is my room. I don't want to share with Kelly! It's MINE!

When I grow up, I don't want to be an idol with a face so much as I want to be a girl with a voice. I just want people to hear me. You know, I think I'd be perfectly fine - I KNOW I'd be fine - not being famous or very well-known. I think if I could be the Girl with the Voice every day of my life, I'd be okay with living in a little apartment as long as I could eat and sleep there. And that it wasn't infested with bugs. It would be enough to hear people commenting on the street, I went to see this show the other day, and the girl with the lead just had the most beautiful voice. I almost cried at the end. It'd be worth it.

Posted at 12:34 am by AoiHoshi


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