i've run out of ideas and i'm vain

you don't know me, but you think you do. i know i have done the same things with people. i do it everyday. i take peeks into someone's written life and i feel like i almost know them. i can guess their next moves in life. where they will get a job? what kind of people they have crushes on? if they prefer cats to dogs? i can guess it all.

but you just can't figure someone else by some typed up verbs, nouns and adjectives. the prettiest language does not make a person. it just makes words and sentences and paragraphs. similies and metaphors are how you know the person. the paper person. not the real flesh and bone.

so i thought i would straighten out some of your misconceptions. here is me in more words.

i sometimes get so angry that i want to smash things. i kick walls and cry and yell. i hit pillows till white fluff spills out like marshmellow guts. sometimes i scratch my arms up and down with my nails. just enough to make long red trails. nothing more. no blood. no mess. just enough to feel something.

sometimes i'm annoyingly silly. i'm big into onomatopoeias. i'm always zooming and grumbling and saying words like "confetti" or "centipede" outloud for on reason at all. i love stupid jokes and don't think twice about making them, even if it is so 8th grade. or even, second grade.

i am terrible at math.

i'm very sensitive. overly sensitive. i can't watch movies where animals get injured or killed. i don't like violence. although, i love action movies.

i'm an easy cry. i cry when my friends are sad. i cry at cheesy romantic movies. i don't watch those unless my sister forces me.

my sister is 15. she is so much cooler than i was at 15. she goes to boarding school in italy.

my dad lives in germany. my mom goes back and forth between texas and germany and italy. i think my mom is more beautiful than any actress in the entire world. although, she doesn't believe me when i say that. i look like her. kinda.

i love staring at people on the subway.

i have this thing for red headed boys and freckles. when i was a little girl, i wanted freckles so badly. i never got any.

i am 25% japanese. i almost went to college in honolulu to major in japanese but instead i'm in boston majoring in writing.

almost all my friends at college are asian. i have no idea why.

i want to go to california to hang out with barrios and sabrina. and yes, i talk to them on the phone. i know them pretty well. i think. but people always surprise me. but they might be my favorite people ever.

i have a boyfriend. he is a very skillful writer. he has nice wrists. i like him. a lot.

i watch a lot of porn. almost everyday. no shame.

i cannot watch horror films without jumping a lot and being a huge wuss that covers their eyes and peeks through their hand.

i am an elitist. i am trying to get over it.

i make mix cds.

i like my blue jeans the darkest blue you can get.

i love the smell of laundry and fresh cut grass.

i'm allergic to the japanese yew, but just the berries.

my favorite foods are indian and thai.

i can't write poetry. only haikus.

i used to hate the beatles and i can't believe i admitted to that.

the end. for now.
 
¶ 4:34 PM |