storing

Everyday at eight thirty Frank’s mother calls him and he never answers. Instead, he lets the machine pick up and for a ten minutes straight his mother’s screaming voice fills the apartment. By the time he’s out of his shower his mother is just a whisper of a sob, “You’re too young! Too young, too young to die…” She hangs up before he leaves the apartment.

Frank then consumes half a bagel smothered with Philidelphia whipped cream cheese, his girl friend Heather had recently been buying the low fat cream cheese. It quivered when he poked it with his butter knife and was there for, unnatural. So Frank threw it away, he didn’t talk to Heather about it nor did he think about it. It was cream cheese, deliciously unhealthy full of calories cream cheese. Of course she retaliated with a new box and the sudden disappearance of the Phildelphia Whipped Cream cheese. He then resorted to cornflakes and on his way home that day he bought his normal cream cheese and hid it behind the watermelon. Luckily Heather did not check the watermelon and he noticed a new package of fat free cream, which he opened to keep up appearances. Then he dipped into his stash. This had worked so far and he held his breath as he reached behind the watermelon (he had just gotten a new one yesterday), nothing. His heart skipped a beat and his hand moved around frantically. Still nothing. Slowly setting the watermelon on the table he scanned the fridge.

Just needed to store it. Like it much eli? I know I got off topic...

wow. How very emo of me.

Fuck this.

FUCK THIS.

Goddamnit.

You know when someone says "Hey ____ are you ok? Has life got you down? Do you want to talk about it?" And you say yes. Just that once. No other time. And you talk and they listen and they say something like

"Well, if you think thats bad its always raining in my mind. My parents hate me, but they buy me lots of things like an ipod and cell phone. I can't believe my life" I might just slap them.

I mean, MY COUSIN WAS MOLESTED. BY MY UNCLE. BY MY UNCLE. And they compare that to their *life*

So my cousin's gone awol with $2000 and a car. Might never see the motha fucka again.
My Dad is in danger of his lungs collapsing.
My brother smokes a hookah, reefer, cigars, and pot even though he has the same disease as my dad. And even though he does all those drugs he won't take his medicine.
My mom wants to kill herself. She's openly admitted it.
My grandmother's a drug addict.
And my cousin is retarded.

I learned half of this in the last year.
The one kid who I thought understood and I could rely on is a stoopid motha fucka that doesn't care.
I hate this. I know I can't control them, it's there life and I should fucking get over it. But all the people who tell me that have no idea how hard it is to accept that my dad might die in the next year. That as we speak, even though dave refuses to acknowledge it, his lungs are deteriorating. That my uncle that would spin me around did something so...vulgur to my cousin.
ksdfjlkajjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

So what if I'm emo. It's life.

Brinks in the anal cavity

What a shitty two days.
But the state of the days is beside the point. The point is I wrote a story with an obvious ending that doesn't make sense. Vauge enough to work. Only 2 1/2 people understood it out of a possible 26. Not even my english teacher understood it.

This annoys me greatly because only 2 1/2 out of every 26 people will get the full meaning. Everyone else will just think its a cute story with no end. No meaning. If it leaves an impact it won't be a good one. It will be a confused negitive connotation one, and thats not what I want.

However my good friend Elijah did understand it and acted pissed off at people who didn't and yelled the meaning to them. Yes. He is that cool. 'Why are we here?' and other thoughts by Eli.

Ontop of this everyone annoys me except for certain people. What is more comical is that these people should annoy me more than anyone but they don't.

Some asshole called my hair a wig. I know its eating my face, he was pale and chubby but I didn't call a twinkie, did I? On top of this a girl acted like I was deaf and said something which could be taken the wrong way infront of me. What a bitch. The fact is she does more drugs than I ever will. So she can go shit a brick and fuck herself with a chainsaw.

Don't I feel like a better person.

Oh yes, to my anonomous commenter

que?

Cliche as an Ostrich Egg

So. Resolutions. Fuck That

Resolutions are only good for two months because people pick specific ones, ones that can't flow with everyday life. So my flexibal resolution would be to keep up with this blog. There. Painless.

My cousins were over here yesterday, my relationship with my cousins is odd because:

1. My cousins that I now interact with, are in college
   
2. Most of my cousins are male
3. I am the youngest
4. I am innocent
5. I am clueless about their lives
6. I have a problem with drugs

However, it was pretty ok. I am still quite angry at kid who we will call "Frank." Angry enough to still avoid him. I hope Frank dies in a tragic car crash.

And that is my day. Doing homework and bitching about Frank.
Later I shall lie in the grass and soak up the rain.
Later kids.

Changing petals

I eat salad because I don't eat dead animals. Ever. It is quite unusual but nessacary to the daily routine of things which are essential to my writing which is the partial reason for this blog.

Just so everyones clear on things. I like flowers and trees. Unfortunately ours are dead, or the majority. This was greatly upseting to me however I understood. So I drove to Hilton Head. There were no dead trees.

The other reason for this blog is because I hate everyone. I get confused easily. And I am insecure. Because I don't like to admit this I will do it on here. I will talk about everyone. If you kicked me in the hall, I will talk about you. I don't care if you were kidding. I'm a bitch. No. Actually I'm not. I probabely won't talk about you but I'll try, damnit.

Anyways. I shall go prepare coffee grounds for the flowers.
Munster