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it's written all over my face

this house reminds me of doing dope. doing dope in the bathroom before dinner. after dinner. i'm taking a bath. my stomache hurts. i would listen to the crickets and sneak cigarettes out my window and think about absolutly nothing for hours. i can hear every movement in this house. my bedroom is different but the door is the same, peeled off stickers and scotch tape scrapings. i never noticed that before and for some reason tonight it seems monumental. it's because everything in this house has changed, except for maybe that door.

i haven't been able to hold a conversation with crying in the last 2 days. it's not a long, drawn out sobbing sesh. it comes in spurts. mid conversation. someone says something totally irrelevant and it triggers this thing in me. jordan jordan jordan. what is happening. i'm not a movie, i'm not a country song. i'm not your avante garde postcard idea.

i wish my mom didn't invite bob over for dinner. i'm sitting there trying to swallow down corn, pretending to listen. all i want her to do is tell me everything is gonna be ok. mommy find me a boyfriend. yeah right.

he is so miserable, and it's sticking to the walls of my apartment. it sticks on everything. it would be so much easier if i had done something wrong, if he hated me and ran away. i didn't do anything though. and i only want him to leave because i love him so.

maybe i am a country song afterall.

remind me never to hang out with marlene for more than 5 hours. our conversations are so limited because she's SUCH a JW! i said are you voting? she said no we're politcially neutral. god's government in heaven is the ultimate goverment.

how's that for the ultimate snap?

anyway, long island is nice and cool and clean and i get to be alone in my dark bedroom with the door closed and sob my little heart off. some things just feel better at home.

why don't you just go to your home???

9:31 p.m. - 2004-08-09

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