May 18th, 2007

{ naruto ; kyuubi } rawr

Gunfire in the streets.

These past few days have been particularly difficult for me. I have no room to complain though, I know it can and will be worse, but my birthday is in eight days, so I'm happy. I'll be fifteen, which means I can get my permit. I've been reminiscing on how life has been since I first got my LJ, and I can't believe it's been so long since. I was, what, twelve? Yep. I get a little bit annoyed with myself when I think about how seriously I used to take myself.

Blitz will be here soon. :3 (The Five DVD set of Dir En Grey, W00T.)

Oh, and I have my schedule for next week for work. I actually got my job and will be starting soon >3< ♥ And really, I can't wait. I know two things. A; I so won't be able to take Japanese with it. This is sad, but true. If I'm working, how in hell would I have time to take lessons? The good news is that I have money to spend on the things I moan in pain for. Such as the absolutely beauty entire nine season box set of X-Files they have for about 130 bucks total on eBay. >_>;

Shino/Charlie wanted to see my art, too. (I almost forgots. :O) So here it all is. Be warned, it's almost all Not Work Safe >_>;;; I like to draw Tayuya naked, yeah. A lot.

So, MY DAY:

[ m o r n i n g ]

Wake up and waste a day
Chase away
A day at a time
And waste away.
Clean face today.
Clean place today.
Toothpaste makes my orange juice sour.
Waste an hour
Or so.
My shower
Is slow.
The flowers that grow
Outside of my window
Are blooming.
I'm assuming
That you're coming over soon.
It's almost half past four
And you called here at noon.

- The Matches

Perfect description really. I was heavily exhausted this morning I fell asleep leaning against my wall. The cookie I ate for breakfast I nearly threw up, I choked on my Wellbutrin, my Orange Juice burned my tongue like hydrochloric acid, and I had to remind my mom four times to call stakeh's stepmom and to pick me up early today.

It was shit.

I nearly missed my bus, too. =_=;

[ b e f o r e c l a s s ]

I found out who the girl who's been attacking me for physical touches is. She's a slut named Cassie, a nice slut, but a slut, and she kisses me every chance she gets. I'm fucking sick of it. I pushed her away, but she only seemed more intense about having me afterwards. I'm not used to the attention u_U; I spent my time with the nerds, and found out some scandals that do no more or less than annoy me. (I feel as though I've been sent here to destroy them.)

I walk up the stares to Pre-Al and look up at the graffiti on the ceiling.

"Apathy."

[ p r e a l g e b r a ]

A girl gave me a skirt. It's black, like everything I wear. I thanked her a bit listlessly and stuffed it in my bag. We have to take a test in the class, but I spend thirty minutes compiling a soundtrack to my current state of mind, then I begin to work. By now I have forgotten the songs I came up with, but they probably included Every Day is Exactly the Same by Nine Inch Nails. I'm painfully apathetic.

The boy who likes me spends his time hitting on me, which I draw Kanji on my arms, trying to remember how to write Ai correctly so I can complete the emotions chart just right. I think about Blitz, and doujinshi, and fandom in general, ignoring his words and getting lost in my train of thought. I get sleepy and the bell is shrill and yet monotonous when it chimes four times.

Class ends.

I tape a piece of gauze to my notebook and leave.

[ e n g l i s h ]

I drink my Mellow Yellow and watch The Odyssey for the period. MaincharacterepicherogodcomplexQUITBEINGSUCHADICKANDSTOPPISSINGOFFPOSEIDON guy finally makes it home and meets his son and wife. I muse about how hot Calypso was and how I really didn't want to be there. This makes time move a little bit slower, so instead I watch him slaughter Penelope's suitors with only a certain amount of interest. The guy goes batshit overboard, but it kills the time.

Ms. Corey, the Creative Writing teacher, comes in and gives me a free copy of the Literary Magazine. My artwork is on the front cover, and another piece is somewhere within. My face burns when they brag on me in front of the class. Dylan, my fake Step-Brother, and I laugh about how our "step father" is going to hack him with a chainsaw for not being on the cover. It's a weirdass inside joke.

It's 11:30 with such contentment and the bell rings for us to leave. It's a half day, so I go home now, and my mom is waiting for me outside, so she flocks over the lit magazine with glee. I'm too tired to smile.

[ t h e s o u p k i t c h e n ]

We go out to lunch and eat. My soup tastes like hot water and my bread like cardboard. My mellow yellow upsets my stomach and I go home with nausea. I read stories from the magazine out loud, and mom continues to flock over my art. The sugar in my drink doesn't give me the jump start I deserve.

[ h o m e ]

Mom yells at me about money. I get on the computer and wait for an earache to go away. My nose bleeds and I make myself a couple of cookies.

I should draw.