Sunday, 01/26/03 - 9:49 pm.
I'm really, really, REALLY hoping that one day this stupid flaw of keeping the anger to myself will pay off.
"Pay off" = "result in the creation of a sociopath alter ego that will have no regrets in letting out all the anger".
My P!nk CD contains the version of Misery with A LOT of Steven Tyler in it.
HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE WATCHING THE GODDAMN TV IF I'M WORKING ON THE COMPUTER! Jesus Christ.
Near the UCA there's always a couple selling necklaces, bracelets and weird shit. I love looking at them. They look like gypsies. I could swear they're from some part of Europe. They look no more than 25 years old. The girl is dressed up with long skirts, her hair is blond, very short, like a boy's. Always wearing a bandana. They must be husband and wife. They always sit in sidewalk, around the corner. Making up new bracelets. Sometimes he gets up and buys cigarretes. Sometimes they both get up, and stand in front of each other, talking...and they always end up kissing softly. It's like they don't belong to this reality.
YES, TODAY IT'S SUNDAY, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!!! Good Lord!!!
IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU, FOR ALL OF YOU TO FOLLOW THOSE FUCKING GUIDELINES?!?!?!
I don't know what I want. But I don't want this. I wish these voices in my head were real alter egos, there's bound to be at least one with an assertive personality.
I don't want friends. I only want to write an incredible rock song, take it to the top of the charts and then slit my wrists and bleed to death.
YEAH, I BET YOU WISH THOSE WERE BRAINS, RIGHT HOTT GURL?