Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Same As It Ever Was

Break is happenin. Reading a lot. TVing a bit. Writing, not as much as I like.
Still not getting enough sleep. I miss plotting my world out on this ol' thing. I've got lots of scribbled pages, but I'll spare you all. A few thoughts. Broken like the union.

My house, the heat sounds like the groaning pits of hell.
But my fingertips and toes are still cold. What gives?

Talked about leagues,"making out," and relationships. Leagues I say? How presumptious.
Apparently I date people consistently "beneath" my league.
I say I say HEY relationships are confining, and I don't really "date" per se.
We are all too young. People in relationships just nod their heads and people out of them nod their heads the other way. All think I'm ridiculous. Eventually I might believe them, but I just want everyone to be warm and fuzzy.

For now I won't prescribe to this league bull-shit. I do what I want. Though tomorrow what I want will be completely different than what I WANTed.

Trump called Rosie O'donnell fat and ugly.

Went to church with the family. Currently in religious limbo. Remembered days when I felt close to God. No one shoved it down my throat. It was so pure and perfect. Where did that girl go? Where did that God go? Mom and daughter giggled at church. I mean, their was smoke and stadium light tricks. Hip/Edgy. "Mary was pregnant with the spirit," I liked that. Mom leans over, clears throat, "Where's the guy in leather pants?" I smiled and fanned away some smoke, "And the mullet?" Giggle fit mid-service. Sometimes we get each other.

When nobody is home, I pop in my mom's old tape. Lying on my back I close my eyes and groove to the tunes. Great Standards. This woman died in a plane crash. She got it though, and even had male back-up singers. She lives on in my tone-deaf belting. It feels good like the age of twelve.

I need a haircut.

Papi took the time to go to six different stores for the one thing I was looking for. I doth protest, but he's dedicated. I love him something fierce and that's the least of the reasons why. But I see he's tired, and all I want to do is provide relief.

A faithful reader told me I don't use enough commas. True story. Apologies.

Two books down X to go. Television is mostly awful. I am mostly happy, but missing the chaos of college life (sssh don't tell). I might be a little crazy. Heh.

I am thankful for melting pots. Shit shaped me yo.

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