Sarahbellum

The meanderings of a mind
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2003-02-28 18:41:46 (UTC)

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I'm supposed to submit a short fiction piece or a poem. I
had every intention. It is due Monday. I have nothing.
When did people start being honest and telling you when
something sucked donkey balls? I guess that is best. The
only way you will learn to put more effort into something
to avoid the suckage. I guess I won't enter the "contest"
there is no way to yank a story from my ass. I do have
poems laying around...too much effort to pick one that I
don't mind others reading and judging me on.
I slept til one today because I could. Sometimes I like
dreaming better than people awake. Well except for when I
dream the monsters mating or the psychotic alcoholic
mother's boyfriend that wants to kill me dreams. And when
I'm with my baby. Then reality is better.
I like putting popular culture in my stories. I think it
makes them real. Gives somebody something to relate to.
And it paints a picture we can all see. But Apparently
this is bad. Forgive me.
I wish my nose would quit running and I'd feel better.
I laughed so hard I cried yesterday. It made me happy to
be alive. Hearing someone laugh is the sweetest sound.
My roommate came in last night quit drunk but able to
talk. She said the same things like three times and
reminded me this morning of them again because her memory
span was four seconds long. I still feel guilty over my
inability to be the person I wish I could be drunk. I
shall work on changing myself.
I get to work tomorrow. Wasted six minutes of cell phone
time to talk for 36 seconds. Damn them for being in higher
positions than me. What to do after college? No thank you
grad school my ass is still sore from my undergrad
studies. Can one make donating plasma a career? Do they
use big needles? Note to self: Research plama donation.
There could be something here.
World War II exam in two weeks. Too many names and dates.
It's sickening. Note to self: Warsaw is in Poland. Moscow
is in Russia. Jupiter is the biggest planet.
I want to talk to my grandpa. I miss him. I want him to
make me a rootbeer float like he did when I was little and
then drag me off for a walk to the church down the road.
How is it possible to cry for someone so long gone?
Dear God. They tell me you weild a lot of power so I'd
thought I'd come to you for this. Could you do something
about the weather? Mother Nature has it in for us I
think. All I want is some sunshine and a flawless blue
sky. I'd say let the trees bloom too, but we don't have
any trees around here anymore. Well we do, but mostly they
are laying on the ground in heaps, shoved away from the
sidewalks but not out of the parking lots.
I want to take a cooking class, a mechanic class, a pottery
class, a knitting class, a sewing class, a parenting class,
a sculpting class. If they offered these at school I might
be tempted to stay an extra year.
I guess I should make my bed and hit the road. All desire
to move flees. I think I'll just sit here a bit longer. I
want cheese fries. From The Outback. I'll sell my
plasma. NO kidding. I will. How does one do this?


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