i think i ordered the scurry tornado weather. it’s overish now. good. i got the best banner on my site now. i cant handle my mum following me around everywhere telling me stuff constantly. she told me this dude she ran into, the weiner guy has some company now where he designs underwear. im going to model that shit.
i found a roach thank god in the garage and smoked the hell out of it. i think i mite be able to get a ride, ya my dad just said yes he would drive me. you dont seem like you feel like hanging out with me that much today. you just up and left here earlier and have been weird ever since. i derno ur stressed or something. i guess i am a lot for you to handle and being with yer friends away from me is necessary for your well-being, and it is a nice break for you hanging around and stuff.
things here are just wacky. my moods change like crazy. sometimes i notice it like oh ok today i guess im going to be mad and moody and extra depressed. depressed. pshh. dumb word. it explains everything and nothing about the illness itself. i think i might post this on my blog, this email. maybe not. im emailing it to myself regardless. i say all this crap and immediately forget about it. you know if you just listened to yourself sometimes and talked yourself out of bad thoughts and situations and feelings, things aren’t so overwhelming. the answer is right there but im too lazy to acknowledge it so i keep obsessing over twat-nothing for no reason other than if im not a sad person i am just, a person.
anyway no im not stoned, nowhere near stoned.
i don’t write emails to people like this anymore. i don’t really open up to people the way i should. not even my psychiatrist. maybe a bit to him. i don’t even know if i open up to myself.
sometimes i just want to cut myself. not seriously do it. ok maybe but like just to see how it feels. i already pick at myself like crazy, my legs, the back of my shoulders, neck, face, anywhere i can reach. raymi has scars. raymi gives herself scars. when something goes bad or the second stress arises my hands go at my body and pick. everyone tells me it’s normal but seriously i don’t think that it is, well it is but not to the extent i’m doing it. you know? if things were cool i wouldn’t be picking and scarring myself.
i’m fucking embarassed dude. i just want my face to tan so i don’t have to wear make-up to cover that shit up and the huge circles under my eyes. fuck.
so back to cutting myself. i’m just looking at my arms and the scars and scrapes from raymi accidents and i think how awesome a big long deep boner of a scar down my left arm to the wrist would look.
laura at the slutfactory told me she liked being cut when her boyfriend fucked her from behind and she enjoyed watching her blood go down her arms all over the place.
decent.
a few scars here and there make sense.
and no mum i won’t actually do it so don’t go all mom’d out in my comments. please.
im friggin bored already. there is no pot here yet. angelo is going running and then coming over after. hope his lungs don’t explode cyanide from all the ruuuunnin’. csi is a pretty good show, no? england lost yesterday and everyone was mad and i was like go france now’s your chance. i’m listening to ave maria right now. i don’t know why audblog is fuckified. there’s about six audio posts out there somewhere, waiting, gone, who knows. velvet revolver, AS IF slash and scott weiland and others that’s awesome. i guess slash finally parted his hair to the side, looked around and realised fuck man, i should be in a better band. eat shit g&r.
i was a fucking horn dog yesterday. i always am when im hung over and shitfeeling. i am Thee Molestor.
jimmy was all if you’re gonna get drunk, get shitty. fucking right man. v-man saw his dad when we was driving and everyone went paranoid for a bit. i’m like lets audblog this but no one had a fone, or a license. winners. chemo fell hard into the grass, his shoulder. those guys are animals. gay-lee had a bloody nose. hardcore. his girlfriend sounds like sugarbaby and she started talking about juicy oranges until angelo’s dick grew out so far i hung my purse on it.
terry busted out the gentleman’s drink after the pub – england losing – homoerotic antics. as you can tell i have a jack daniel’s fetish, he says, hundred dollar bottle, silver-sashed, in-hand. we were all drinking from those tiny guinness cups and it actually looked like guinness, tar, or more tar.
i have a ganglion thing on my left hand, it goes away and it comes back and i just want to cut it off for good. with a razor blade like in the newest vice. or maybe i’ll smash the other hand so it grows one and i can be symmetrical.
if i had a penis they would let me play soccer with them. if i weren’t the unlimberest person in the world with legs what are made of twigs and shoes with no treads and a dumb look on my face, perhaps. it’s fucking hot out dude.
smoking makes me take craps. someone asked me this and i was like no it doesn’t but ya man, it sure does.
like i’m gonna go try and eek one now. wait feeling passed.
i’m growing mexican pussy hair. the bermuda triangle. what?
i can’t decide if i should put on fake tanner or lay out in the sun until i sweat off five pounds and pass out into the grass.
into the grass.
when a girl kisses me i am like do it again.
but it’s ok dude ‘cos another one is already in-line after you. sucka.
ehm sorry for the holes in your lawn from my heels.
last nite was fuuuuun. i took an hour-long piss behind a tree by the side of the road and people were walking up to us and im like come on finish already, took a little break in the pushing of urine and a big sigh and then more and more comes out. like i think i ordered the piss that takes forever.
katherine was wasted and we walked around trying to find a girl for her to beat up and me to stand there going what what who you messin’ with now punk.
nah. everyone knows raymi isn’t a fighter. well maybe. i don’t boast to be something i’m not. i just boast. period. i try and humiliate the opponent, destroy their confidence a little and think maybe they won’t slap me, yet at least.
this girl flipped a chair over kuz she thought i was gonna sit in it. how funny is that. flattering actually. i’m sorry your girl came in the room wanting blow and asked if she owed anything, asked me, like it’s my fucking blow wtf? and im like ya just show me your boobs. so testosterone tuesday flips the chair. she also elbowed schrader in the jaw knocking his glasses off and then shauna got hit in the mouth by accident because she was standing beside schrader and she starts crying but chair flipper was like at least it wasn’t your tooth like that makes everything better. i just looked at katherine like why isn’t schrader going mental? but i know now.
anyway, being the party slut rules but then everyone keeps coming up to you expecting to see your tits, dude my back was turned the other way i swear.
i left my ‘kini at kat’s, we were going to tub it but it didn’t happen. again. one day maybe we’ll get it right. angelo’s ex girl gave me some bad looks. glad i didn’t know it at the time. i think i was too busy calling everyone a douchebag and pretendingto like their purses.
one little girl walked around being all straight-edge. that is just annoying. i think it’s cool that you believe in something enough to take a stand and be all i am not going to do drugs and booze until my eyes explode out of their sockets but man, it’s pretty fucking obvious you’re straight-edge kuz your parents are nazis and will hit you with a broom and take away that LV purse and you wear braces but you’re cute so i’m sorry i’m saying mean things. is it also a coincidence that straight-edge girls dress like avril lavigne?
i’m not going to drink for awhile i think. maybe three hours. heh. no i feel alcohol fatness rearing its head, undoing all the pretend sit-ups i do. and that’s gay.
