raymi has been a little PC these days, well, not really, she’s still a fatmouth vulgatron but on a way lesser scale. what i mean is, she’s all done grown up and now she is concerned with little chillens not dressing like hookers on jarvis, whatever.
she has this jobthing now and it is going quite well but she is a tad bitter ‘cos her friends don’t call her anymore and she has done given up calling them. there’s this unspoken just show up rule applicable to everyone here, you know, ‘cept when raymi shows up the walls move, but not in that rawwwwwwwwwwwwwwr I AM HERE type way like it use to be.
when she shows up it is like, oh great, competition, wonderful. clap clap.
but it isn’t fucking like that. i don’t want your fucking shit and i don’t want your fucking shit to fucking want me all you have to do is pretend i exist for three seconds and make a call.
stepping stoners.
yeh so raymi tries to avoid these places cuz these people are there but all roads lead to these places when yer a bitter misfit and all you want is a tonic and a familiar face and perhaps make like we’re both not tranquilized for various reasons plaguing thy heart and head.
i should stop typing in the third.
being a “cult icon” is not what it is cracked up to be, you have to be full-on famous or just a no nothing nothinger, either way when/if you get big, everyone is going to hate you, so fuck it dude, let’s go bowling.
sometimes i woke up way before the rest of the world did on this side of the world it felt like and i would stand around dance around clean around and generally, be angry for being awake and then little by little they would awake and i would be hi hi hii and they would be it is 10 o’clock and i would go it is?
you can’t be angry for being chemically imbalanced, it is something you can’t help, you just can’t help it.
it’s a temporary thing, honestly, knowingly.
my papa tole my mum that he he tole hisself to just stop analyzing people, just, to stop it.
basically.
i agree.
i don’t want to know people anymore. i don’t want to think that i know them, and i don’t want to show or to prove, that i know them, anymore.
and this fucking “awareness” is bollocks.
it’s the seasons that do me in. the repeats on telly and the new commercials.
seeing spots where there are none when the radio is on and the dvd is playing and a cigarette is in my mouth and it’s like, what are they trying to tell me, wait, who is they, there is no they, i am the only they.
girls who are skinny and “pretty” get such a raw deal.
they all say ya i am a klutz and i say the wrong things and i am incompetent bleh bleeeh.
it’s true, you know.
their brains work too fast for the mind to follow and that’s why they go boink bonk bloop blerp into a doorknob all the time when they are walking inside to get me my sunglasses.
holy shit im a fucking retardbag. i’ve been spending all my time being afraid and paranoid and the second i am away from the machines i get more and more and more, paranoid, etc?
fuck that.
everybody else and their bloogs are about them and their good times real lives going on and here i am watching tv, listening to the razzio, going oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
