2012-08-09 02:33:42 ( UTC -5 )
Whose Line and Whatnot
Lalalala. My hair is like, orange-y coppery and gorgeous. I got it professionally dyed
today. Fabulous fabulous fabulous. And it actually looked really excellent after she
blow-dried and straightened it. Perhaps I should start thinking of actually doing my hair
for school instead of just going in bed-headed. I don't know. We'll see.
Hrmm. Nothing really interesting has happened other than that. I've gone to the gym every
day this week. Yay. But I've also eaten way too much. By that I mean three meals a day.
Simply too much if I want to look amazing by the 27th. I was 117 last time I got weighed
at the doctor, I think, and now apparently I'm 124. Granted, I'm using the bathroom scale
which may or may not be accurate, and I don't recall when I last went to the doctor. But
whatever. I'm self-conscious and vain and obsessed with what others think of me. But I'm a
teenager, so that makes it okay. Yup.
I need to write a poem or something about the word glorious, because apparently it is
what someone thinks I want them to think about me. Glorious.
Yes, I'm glorious.
The fuck is glorious.
Freedom is glorious.
The goddamn aurora borealis is glorious.
Fuck, a stallion is glorious.
Teenage girls aren't glorious.
Not this one, anyway.
But not this one.
Who even thinks of that word to describe a person?
A fucking idiot, that's who.
A charming attractive charismatic lovely
whore of a fucking idiot, that's who.
What is that supposed to mean?
Having, worthy of, or bringing fame or admiration: "glorious victory".
Having a striking beauty or splendor that evokes feelings of delighted admiration.
As much as I would like to think the truth could somehow slip out of your captivating
lips, it doesn't.
It just doesn't.
That charm is just overpowering and frankly a little stale.
You're ALWAYS so GODDAMN charming.
It's an act
But it's a good one
But I hate you
Isn't it just the worst that charming people don't actually want to talk to "glorious"
I'd think that word would attract a little attention.
Here I sit alone and a little bit sad.
Who the fuck is glorious?
Mr. Charm. Fuck.
I'm good at poetry. And by that I mean terrible. Truly, awfully terrible. What if I was
actually really amazing in every and gorgeous and I just can't see it because I have low
self esteem? Like, what if I"m actually the perfect human being? Well, the standards of
perfection apparently have dropped quite a bit in this situation. Hmm.
Oh my god. What if everyone that I've ever had a crush on ever has been trying to text me
for the past few weeks and my phone is just lost and they assume that because I don't
reply I hate them and they never try to contact me again oh my god.
BWAHAHAHAHA. Yeah right. 'What if' should never be part of my speech ever. It just makes
me a little sad.
Well. I've successfully wasted time. Now I'm going to try to go to sleep and await that
imminent hour when I must get up and go to CCCT again (thank Gee it's almost over. Oh my
god. I've just created a thing. Instead of oh my god it's oh my Gee (Gerard Way). I'm
perfect in every way and by that I mean I'm such a loser) and I'll be tired because I
didn't go to sleep at a decent hour for literally no reason and I'll be self-conscious
because of Cody (even though he's not that cute and is annoying and hair and is
Christian-y and wants to wait until marriage how lame is that) and I'll look totally gross
and feel fat compared to Lucinda and I'll eat breakfast and lunch and dinner and a snack
and feel bad and I'll have to rehearse this show which we all just need to accept is going
to fail miserably. Yep.
Oh, I saw this thing on tumblr where you get a classy jar and some notecards and every
day you write down something good that happened that day and put it in the jar and open it
on New Year's and celebrate all the goodness of that year. I want to do this. So on New
Year's I can convince myself that this year didn't totally suck even though it mostly did.
Um. SKAW! SKAW! SKAW!
What. Whose Line. Ryan Stiles. It exists.
I need to go to sleep or something.
View printer friendly version