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Oct. 15th, 2005 01:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leia131This is going to be very disjointed. Please bear with me. I'm just typing whatever comes into my head.
Here's a thought: Harry's birthday is in July. Assuming Lily had a nine month pregnancy, and having no evidence to the contrary we'll assume that, that puts his conception in October. It's October, and my mind is dirty. If I could I'd write that fic. And it would be absolutely amazingly romantic and hot.
I almost died of the squee today because I went to the Drama Club meeting and the President couldn't get onto the stage, and one guy threw "get thee to a nunnery" into the staged reading, and there was a techie with a screw gun building the set in the background and they had to talk over the noise and they call the faculty by their first names, and it was just perfect.
In Great Russians all 11 of us (two were missing) sat as close as possible to each other at the end of the oval table farthest from the Crazy Russian Woman. It was fucking great. I love messing with teachers.
I sacrificed a pink high-lighter to Alex's soon-to-be-glowing margarita man. Rest In Peace, pink high-lighter.
My Amazon story sucks. I hate my inability to write what I want.
Abby and I watched Chicken Run. She had never seen it before. It was quite the experience.
Cinzia's home for the weekend and I'm scared to sleep in here alone. I am pathetic.
I have exactly no friends who are both male and straight. Not that I mind, but how did that happen?
This entry sounds really bitter now as well as disjointed. Fuck.
I'm glad Vanessa had a good day.
Erin is always on ridiculously late on school nights, but not on the weekends when Ineed her want to terrorize her. WTF? (I LOVE ERIN and I am grateful for everything she does.)
Lalalalalalalalala.
I still haven't read Jess's story. Or Hannah's. *Is guilty* I will guys, I promise.
I'm avoinding going to sleep right now. I don't really know why.
They guy on Nip/Tuck was cutting himself with this huge fucking steak knife. THAT IS NOT COOL. I told him it wasn't cool, but he didn't listen.
I said the Fuck word a lot in this entry.
And why do I capitolize it?
I don't know why I'm cutting this. In case you don't want to read it I guess. But I wish you would.
Some of this was part of my conversation with Erin, and some of it I wrote afterwards.
I'm clinging to him the way he used to be and won't ever be again and maybe never really was to begin with
And I can't hate him, because if I let myself hate him then he wins.
And if I could just hate him... Well then I'd still think about him
But at least maybe I wouldn't dream about him anymore.
She says first loves never really die
And that's what kills me.
She says that exploding garlic will make him cease to be a worry
I say exploding anything would probably work.
How about my heart?
It was so long ago.
That explosion is done, no one died, the survivors all moved on, went to college, got jobs and got married and have nice houses in respectable parts of town now.
So why does it still hurt?
I still want what I wanted for two years and with all my heart
Which was only for him to be happy.
I'm the perfect tragic little figure, wounded and waiting for my prince
But he's a long time coming and the waiting is lonely.
"Bring me the head of John the Baptist" is all well and good, but what do you do with it once you have it?
I don't want it, I won't do it, there is no revenge and no closure and no hate and no love and he doesn't want to deal with me or talk to me or have to do with me and I like to pretend that I don't care but everyone knows I really do
They must or they wouldn't keep telling me about him.
I wish he could see this. I want to beg him to end it but I don't even begin to know how he would or could
It's been so long, so fucking long, and I can't make it go away
If I think about it or don't think about it it's all the same it's all there always.
He's moving farther away and that's only embedding him more in my mind and happy memories of laughter and I can't even watch Jim Carrey movies anymore because it's HIM and I thought I loved.
If I knew how to get this to him I would, but then he'd never respond and it'd just be another door I opened in order to allow someone to close the giant drawbridge gate that's welded open, and every new door lets in more arrows that burn and smoulder but never go out because hate is cold and I don't have that
I never will.
Love matters, and it can be created but never destroyed. Only changed.
God. That was about a third that length when I started typing it. If anyone who sees this knows what I'm talking about and wants to somehow bring this poem and his eyes together, I'd really appreciate that. Not that anything will come of it, but a girl can hope that she could move on eventually and that the boy she devoted two years of her life to might still care about her enough to at least read it. Or send her a letter before he goes off and starts World War III with his father. And you could include this paragraph too, to make it abundantly clear that I don't want him back and I don't want to bother him, I just need something I can't find and I was hoping maybe he could help.
I promise that I don't spend all day obsessing over that. I don't even usually think about him except at night, and that's just a habit that won't die. It's 2:15am and I get weird when I stay up.
All the same it's a really good poem and I wish he could see it.
Here's a thought: Harry's birthday is in July. Assuming Lily had a nine month pregnancy, and having no evidence to the contrary we'll assume that, that puts his conception in October. It's October, and my mind is dirty. If I could I'd write that fic. And it would be absolutely amazingly romantic and hot.
I almost died of the squee today because I went to the Drama Club meeting and the President couldn't get onto the stage, and one guy threw "get thee to a nunnery" into the staged reading, and there was a techie with a screw gun building the set in the background and they had to talk over the noise and they call the faculty by their first names, and it was just perfect.
In Great Russians all 11 of us (two were missing) sat as close as possible to each other at the end of the oval table farthest from the Crazy Russian Woman. It was fucking great. I love messing with teachers.
I sacrificed a pink high-lighter to Alex's soon-to-be-glowing margarita man. Rest In Peace, pink high-lighter.
My Amazon story sucks. I hate my inability to write what I want.
Abby and I watched Chicken Run. She had never seen it before. It was quite the experience.
Cinzia's home for the weekend and I'm scared to sleep in here alone. I am pathetic.
I have exactly no friends who are both male and straight. Not that I mind, but how did that happen?
This entry sounds really bitter now as well as disjointed. Fuck.
I'm glad Vanessa had a good day.
Erin is always on ridiculously late on school nights, but not on the weekends when I
Lalalalalalalalala.
I still haven't read Jess's story. Or Hannah's. *Is guilty* I will guys, I promise.
I'm avoinding going to sleep right now. I don't really know why.
They guy on Nip/Tuck was cutting himself with this huge fucking steak knife. THAT IS NOT COOL. I told him it wasn't cool, but he didn't listen.
I said the Fuck word a lot in this entry.
And why do I capitolize it?
I don't know why I'm cutting this. In case you don't want to read it I guess. But I wish you would.
Some of this was part of my conversation with Erin, and some of it I wrote afterwards.
I'm clinging to him the way he used to be and won't ever be again and maybe never really was to begin with
And I can't hate him, because if I let myself hate him then he wins.
And if I could just hate him... Well then I'd still think about him
But at least maybe I wouldn't dream about him anymore.
She says first loves never really die
And that's what kills me.
She says that exploding garlic will make him cease to be a worry
I say exploding anything would probably work.
How about my heart?
It was so long ago.
That explosion is done, no one died, the survivors all moved on, went to college, got jobs and got married and have nice houses in respectable parts of town now.
So why does it still hurt?
I still want what I wanted for two years and with all my heart
Which was only for him to be happy.
I'm the perfect tragic little figure, wounded and waiting for my prince
But he's a long time coming and the waiting is lonely.
"Bring me the head of John the Baptist" is all well and good, but what do you do with it once you have it?
I don't want it, I won't do it, there is no revenge and no closure and no hate and no love and he doesn't want to deal with me or talk to me or have to do with me and I like to pretend that I don't care but everyone knows I really do
They must or they wouldn't keep telling me about him.
I wish he could see this. I want to beg him to end it but I don't even begin to know how he would or could
It's been so long, so fucking long, and I can't make it go away
If I think about it or don't think about it it's all the same it's all there always.
He's moving farther away and that's only embedding him more in my mind and happy memories of laughter and I can't even watch Jim Carrey movies anymore because it's HIM and I thought I loved.
If I knew how to get this to him I would, but then he'd never respond and it'd just be another door I opened in order to allow someone to close the giant drawbridge gate that's welded open, and every new door lets in more arrows that burn and smoulder but never go out because hate is cold and I don't have that
I never will.
Love matters, and it can be created but never destroyed. Only changed.
God. That was about a third that length when I started typing it. If anyone who sees this knows what I'm talking about and wants to somehow bring this poem and his eyes together, I'd really appreciate that. Not that anything will come of it, but a girl can hope that she could move on eventually and that the boy she devoted two years of her life to might still care about her enough to at least read it. Or send her a letter before he goes off and starts World War III with his father. And you could include this paragraph too, to make it abundantly clear that I don't want him back and I don't want to bother him, I just need something I can't find and I was hoping maybe he could help.
I promise that I don't spend all day obsessing over that. I don't even usually think about him except at night, and that's just a habit that won't die. It's 2:15am and I get weird when I stay up.
All the same it's a really good poem and I wish he could see it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 08:10 am (UTC)xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 10:40 am (UTC)I don't want to get back with him. The problem I think is that I don't know why we broke up because I was happy and he just hit me with it and he lied about why he did it so much that I don't even know the real reason and so I can't seem to move on because I don't really have closure.
Does that make sense?
Anyways I just want him to know how I feel. I need some kind of end. Don't worry.
YAY HAIR!
Love you hun. Thank you for your support.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 08:54 am (UTC)>4MuchLove>4
PS ~ Aww I love that you need/want to terrorize me. *mushiness* I'll be on at some point. . . though that didn't help at all I'm sure . . . ILOVEYOU!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 10:42 am (UTC)I'm glad you thought it was that good. My best stuff always comes from being emo.
LOVE YOU BACK!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 01:47 pm (UTC)I agree on the good poetry from emotasticnesssteinbenburgenschlagenmeizenheimeragustus.
>4MuchLove>4
*fat joke
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 02:01 pm (UTC)[That was a fat joke.]
A very innacurate one.
>4MuchLove>4
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 02:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 03:56 pm (UTC)BUT ONLY IF YOU REALLY REALLY WANT TO GO THERE.
i swear, say the word, and i'll try.
but i'd advise against it.
ps, loved the nerdy-science style connection.
i luv you hunnie, and i promise there are straigh guys. some where. i think. well it's a possibility i suppose. actually, i dont really know that there are straight guys anymore anywhere.
let me kno
<33
the coolest red head (well, at least the coolest red head who is also in college, so as not to steal anyone's glory) ever.
::hugs::
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 09:36 pm (UTC)Thank you though.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-15 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-16 07:42 am (UTC)I told him it wasn't cool, but he didn't listen.
you make me laugh like a motherfucking fool
no subject
Date: 2005-10-16 09:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-16 07:44 am (UTC)am i emotional today or what>
didnt think i was, better check again., i have been in such a state. we desperately need to talk. i have so much to tell you. and it seems that yuo need to talk to. i miss you. very much
no subject
Date: 2005-10-16 09:45 am (UTC)I MISS YOU TOO!
*love*
no subject
Date: 2005-11-04 05:14 am (UTC)