Well, today I took my PSAT test, really wasn't worth all the hype- I'm pretty good when it comes to test taking. Then I smeared some burnt umber-like paint on a canvas-like paper.
I miss my cat friend, and I think it's in the back of the closet again.
I don't know.
I have it now.
And there it goes, but I'm sure I'll be seeing the lingering melancholia of the waking hours soon. I don't know, actually.
I don't know, I can be rude when I'm excited.
And the world really gets bigger when you see it, gets smaller the more you try to wrap your ignorant mind around it, to be honest.
I get stomach aches when talking to some people, then nearly fall over because of it.
You really beat yourself up about things you really like, and it dosn't make sence.
I don't like some songs, and some can just bring up images.
Good ones, so good that you want to shut yourself in a dark room.
There are two words I'd like to put here, but I'd probably end up vomiting up my intestines. Why do simple sounds and strings of phonetics implicate tragedy and difficulty, yet we hope they can free- anything?
I'm really no different from you, if you take away the words. There would be nothing here- We'd both write none of it.
Someday, I'd like to be somewhere, do something. That's how it goes.
Maybe I don't know what kind of house I'd want, and what kind of car to drive my future offspring and the future male parent of said offspring around in. Except, well, guess he'd have to be driving. I'd have to work the kitchen- I'd go to colledge of coarse, but only to meet him- He'd be a football player, and I'd fall deeply inlove with him and get married at age 18, and have seven kids. That would be my life, then I'd die of cancer or something, and everybody would of loved me- My future heteronormative friends who also had multiple children and were cheerleaders back in the day.
Well, maybe I'll grow sideburns some day, become this fantastic avant-garde artist/persona, write a novel, and discover what dark matter is. First, I'd have to figure out what dark matter is, but I could just do that tommorrow. And maybe I'd have a spouse and a couple of cats.
I wouldn't mind having grey hair, as long as I wasn't too close minded.
I would be a freak weirdo. And I would have loved everyone.
I miss my cat friend, and I think it's in the back of the closet again.
I don't know.
I have it now.
And there it goes, but I'm sure I'll be seeing the lingering melancholia of the waking hours soon. I don't know, actually.
I don't know, I can be rude when I'm excited.
And the world really gets bigger when you see it, gets smaller the more you try to wrap your ignorant mind around it, to be honest.
I get stomach aches when talking to some people, then nearly fall over because of it.
You really beat yourself up about things you really like, and it dosn't make sence.
I don't like some songs, and some can just bring up images.
Good ones, so good that you want to shut yourself in a dark room.
There are two words I'd like to put here, but I'd probably end up vomiting up my intestines. Why do simple sounds and strings of phonetics implicate tragedy and difficulty, yet we hope they can free- anything?
I'm really no different from you, if you take away the words. There would be nothing here- We'd both write none of it.
Someday, I'd like to be somewhere, do something. That's how it goes.
Maybe I don't know what kind of house I'd want, and what kind of car to drive my future offspring and the future male parent of said offspring around in. Except, well, guess he'd have to be driving. I'd have to work the kitchen- I'd go to colledge of coarse, but only to meet him- He'd be a football player, and I'd fall deeply inlove with him and get married at age 18, and have seven kids. That would be my life, then I'd die of cancer or something, and everybody would of loved me- My future heteronormative friends who also had multiple children and were cheerleaders back in the day.
Well, maybe I'll grow sideburns some day, become this fantastic avant-garde artist/persona, write a novel, and discover what dark matter is. First, I'd have to figure out what dark matter is, but I could just do that tommorrow. And maybe I'd have a spouse and a couple of cats.
I wouldn't mind having grey hair, as long as I wasn't too close minded.
I would be a freak weirdo. And I would have loved everyone.
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