zombette

i feel icky in my tum. i think i took too many excedrin or something. i wonder if im going to puke. i dont want to puke. i just had a few handfuls of cheerios to see if that might settle things down, but so far things arent looking good.
i took the day off school because i hurt. and im not even referring to the 'oh the torments of my lost soul and poisoned brain' hurt, i mean PHYSICAL PAIN. i dont mind physical pain if its something like a tattoo or piercing. but being sick... that helpless theres nothing you can do but wait it out feeling... that gets on my nerves. on my last nerve.
i was happy as hell to see itsys set go up live; ive been waiting to see it for what feels like forever. i loved it. that girl has PERFECT skin. i love the pale girls. boys too. and i mean PALE. like 'Look at me, i was carved out of alabaster' pale.
flawless.
now i need to see cates set and ill be even happier.
some days time seems to go by so slow. it crawls. some days it seems as though time has stopped. you know it hasnt, because you can still hear the fan going and the traffic moving on the street and voices coming up the vents from the people downstairs, but for all intents and purposes, it feels like time is SUCH a flexible thing. some days go by fast; others sluggishly tick and tick and tick and every passing second feels like its an hour long. or a year.
yes, time is a strange thing.
everyone has their blinds shut today. to block out the sunlight and keep the dwellings cool, presumably. but its a bit of a let down for me. i like to watch other people go about their daily lives without knowing they are being observed. i think when i get my own place, ill invest in a good pair of binoculars. does that make me a voyeur? yes and no. its a thrill, i imagine, for anyone. to be the spider in the eaves and watching people when they have their masks off and they think that they are alone.
today is friday. tomorrow i have school; ill probably go. i dont know why im feeling sick today, but i have a pretty decent immune system and its pretty rare for an attacking virus to survive my battalions of white blood cells for over 24 hours. and then on sunday, im getting my arm worked on some more. i think hes finally going to start working on the frame. maybe he will have time to finish it even. and then on MONDAY, i get my lip fat. and i dont even have to get punched in the face.
that was one really cool thing when i got my labrait last month. my lower lip was almost twice its normal size for about 2 days. that was fucking hot. i thought so anyway.
you know, if i could be a villain, an anti-hero, i think id be the joker. i always identified with the joker.
and if i could fuck a comic book character, it would be wolverine. or johnny the homicidal maniac.
if i could BE a comic book character, it would be catwoman. or death; from the sandman graphic novels. or lara croft.
yeah, lara. the epitome of strength and beauty and bravery and brains and daring and to cap it off, shes got more money than God.
i find my life easier to cope with if i can pretend i have attributes i dont really have. isnt that odd? if i find myself in a frightening situation, ill adopt a smooth, ill get us out of this ok attitude. and even if its not real, it calms others down.
ive wondered so many times who i really am under all these bits and pieces of movie and cartoon and book characters. i guess if you stripped me down, and i dont mean the clothes; i dont know who i would be. if my memory were obliterated and i had to learn everything all over again, i dont know.
every time that thought crosses my mind, though, i find it more and more appealing. erasing my memory. even just the last five years. i think id be a better person now if i didnt have to live through and survive the last five years. at the very least, my head would be screwed on straight.
this world doesnt hate me, but it doesnt love me, either. and ive always been... fragile. thats a nice word for teetering on the edge.
if you arent bolted together tight, youre going to shake, rattle and roll by the time you hit 30. if you live that long.
my generation is a mess. a. complete. disaster. we rely too much on everything being at arms reach. we have never known want, or need, or real fear, or lack of anything. for the most part; my generation is made up of kids masquerading as adults. never tested and tried by fire. easy breezy beautiful cover girl. maybe shes born with it, maybe its maybelline. because youre worth it.
we are spoon fed what we think we want to hear and we lap it up, just like babies.
come on, everyone. wake up. this is your captain speaking. the plane is going down. smoke em if youve got em.