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slow dancing is a little slice of heaven
last night the dj gig was fun. at first all the dykes were there and i played lots of metal, but as the crowd thinned out it was just mary and jeff and larry. i played garage and surf and mama cass and i slow danced. all i really want is a boy who will dance with me to mama cass and call me 'darlin.' i want a real greaser, a cowboy. somone who can fix my car and is tough enough to fight for my heart. but i always end up with the geeky boys. the ones who dont know how to talk to girls all the time. i'm sick of sentiment and stuff. i want lightening bolts. sturgis. unfiltered smokes, soft pack. elvis? i decided that i truly dislike D. borderline on fucking hatred. he's so fucking pompous, arrogant, thinks he's better than everyone. has his precious little program that he works PERFECTLY and he's got it tucked around him so tightly its amazes me how he can even breathe. i never knew him when he was getting fucked up, and he claims he was "always right" and totally arrogant. well, he still seems that way to me. i ran into him and told him i relapsed and he was all "well, good luck. maybe i'll see you around." as if i'm now gonna die and so 'over the edge' and he is so fucking condesending and i hate the way he talks and i hate the way he is such a fucking fag about everything and i will never, NEVER refer to him as my 'ex-boyfriend.' the more i think about what he said to me that night, the more i dislike him. "i cant be your sponser." get the fuck over yourself. what he really was saying was "i'm jealous that you fuck other boys while i'm not getting any." guess what? you suck. he's that tattoo you get when your 30 days clean... and thats all i'm ever gonna say about him forever. the work thing is the worst. i'm going to europe in a few weeks so there is really no point for me to get something steady right now, i guess i'm just a bit jealous of R and his whole LC thing and his fame, and maybe if i knew how to execute my art better i'd be famous right now. i love him so much, and so maybe i'm just pissed that he hasn't called me in a few days. i am so scared to write sometimes. i am all outta ideas. JP is the best writer in the world. i used to know how to write. then one day, i forgot. i love it how they didn't think darby crash was gonna kill himself because he had just built new shelves in his room. priceless.
4:35 p.m. - 2002-06-19
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history - mystery
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