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Feeling: Calm. Loving my life. |
Eating: Um... life?
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
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Today is: 2003-04-24 - @ 11:07 p.m.
p.s. the 'my love' part isn't really directed at anyone all time - is relative
I love my friends. I am talking to three totally different people right now. One mentioned that the possibility or running fingernails across a chalkboard right now sounded inviting. Another randomly breaks out in show tunes while denying his homosexual undertones. The third manages to be the most apathetic person I know, while still being alive. I shall never get bored, as long as I manage to never get normal friends. That shouldn't be hard.
I really feel sorry for guys like Graham. I mean, if I stomp on his heart, and use it as a pincushion without ever even dating him, then what the hell is his wife going to do? Poor spineless bastard.
Today, Joel and I bought 25 cent sticky-hand things from those toy vending machines, and had wars on the pier while people laughed at us. What they don't know is that we were quietly mocking every single one of them. And choosing the especially poor dressers for public burning. He he.
I am largely indifferent to the vast majority of things. The vast majority of things don't matter, so I don't care. On rare occasions, people matter. So consider yourself lucky, my love.
Quote for the Entry: "We have already gone over the fact that I have irreparably fucked up your life. We can continue if you like, though." -Me, to Peter.
The great thing is that I am being perfectly serious.
all time - is relative