I'm an Alcoholic Suicidal Prostitute on Drugs...
Wow. I've unknowingly freaked the bajesus out of Mom...
don't know how, I'm never frigging home... but she just
came in and asked me if I planned on offing myself. (insert
funny look here__________________) Then, after discussing
that, we talked about my move to Florida, and she said
she's worried I'm going to end up on the street selling
myself to strange men so I can buy drugs, booze, cigarettes
and Snapple. (well, not in those words, per se...) I
explained patiently to her that Tiff and I have a place to
live already, 3 in fact, since she has a friend in New
Orleans and one in San Diego, both who offered homes to the
both of us, etc etc. Then came the question every teenager
hears at least once: do you drink? (Yes, Mom, not much) do
you do drugs? (Just pot. Don't worry.)
Apparently Mom is terrified of the way I live my life
because she has no knowlege of it whatsoever. I'm rarely
ever home when she is, or I'm still sleeping or something.
I never talk to either of my folks anymore, to say nothing
of my sister. She doesnt live here, so I guess that's
undertstandable. My parents and I are strangers now though.
I can't even imagine how bad things will be here for them
when I go to Florida. Holy shit are they gonna be bored...
Last night Frances, Maria and I spent the night over
Mike's, watching the two most god-awful movies ever made-
well, that is, after Freddy Got Fingered- Reutrn of the
Living Dead 3 and The Puppetmaster. Those weren't good bad
horror movies, just bad bad horror movies.
Mike and Maria got happily stoned after awhile, and while
they were doing that, Frances and I talked about some
stuff... he wants an aspect or two of our relationship to
change (you can ask what I'm referring to, but I probably
won't tell you, if you don't already know), because he's
worried that if it continues it will fuck things up before
I move. I told him I didn't think it would since it hasn't
yet, but I'll do whatever makes him happy, so it's up to
him. We talked a little about me moving... basically just
him confessing that he thinks he's going to handle it
badly. I told him I doubt he'll take it as hard as he says
he will. But, now that I think about it again, how would I
handle it if he moved? Maybe he's not exaggerating at all.
I hope he does handle it better than he thinks he will,
though... I don't want him (or any of them) to hurt any
more than he (they) has (have) to. Especially since it
won't bring me back or make me stay.
Anyway, there's a Death Kegger over Mike's tonight... or
so I named it since we're only getting slammed there cause
his family is in Michegan still because of the death of his
grandfather. Also, it's more of a 6-pack-er than a kegger.
Oh well. As a matter of fucked, I'm gonna go get in the
shower and get ready. Peace y'all.
Current Music: Starfuckers, Inc.- Nine Inch Nails
I hate every fucking day just a little more
I sold my soul but don't you dare call me a whore...