cucumber's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I hesitate to say that you're a liar, I never tell the truth myself. Look: It's October 4th. 8 months since I've had a job. 4 months since I've been in school, or had to wake up before 11 a.m. 8 months since I was able to give a cent to my Mother, my Father, or pay off the $700 I owe my Grandmother. 8 months since I last turned down an offer of cash from my Father. 8 months I haven't been able to go downtown and shop, or go to concerts because I'm bored. I sit at home all day. Sometimes I go and meet people around the school, but more often than not I don't bother. I do nothing, and then my Father comes home and mentions working, and my Grandmother calls and asks if I've "found a job yet," then Rezo comes home from work and asks me if I dropped off that application at Dominion. No. I haven't. Got it? I'm a lazy fucking teenager who won't get off her ass even to walk across the street and apply as a PArt Time Cashier. I'm afraid to work again, all these months of slack and for the first time in my life it's October and I don't have school--to get a job seems so final. Here, summer is over, your youth is over, get on with your life. Instead, here I sit. Before I typed this line, I paused for a minute to cover my face with a paper towel and make whiny, crying noises and breathe in and out - panic attak, oh goody. I just to change everything. I want to spend time with my parents and have a normal conversation. I want to visit my Mom on the bus, and bring small gifts for my brothers and sister to show off Monday morning. I want my aunt--the one who hated my Mother because she was prettier than her, and who hates me because I'm smarter than her son--to call and say "Congratulations for landing that job." I want to spend a day sober and not feel like getting stoned. I want to be thin - but I don't want to do it the way I did last month. Remember all about me exercising? I didn't really. I lied, to everyone, and soon I believed it myself. All I actually did was throw up -every- morsel of food in my stomach, for about a week and a half. It worked, but I felt bad for throwing up. Now I'm fat again and I feel just as bad. I want to have a clear thought. I want to sound intelligent even when feeling bad, like her or him, not psychotic like a 14 year old who's been dumped. Right now, though, I'm going to have a cigarette, and I'm going to convince myself that good things exist in this world, even on days when your eyes seem to have shed an ocean. 00:12 - 04 October 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kiss me I'm Irish I forgot to mention, I dyed my hair a reddish brown. I don't like it much, but sometimes, at night, it makes me feel all Irish and cultured. Like I have an accent and my Grandmother has taught me the traditions of our family. My Grandma's cool, but there's nothing to share. We're the whitest white bread family. We're WASPs without religion - WAS. "Was" is sort of an oxymoron, because there is no past to us. Canadian culture? Bah. I've lived here all my life, been proud of my land since day one, but there's nothing solid within us yet. We're the largest melting pot in the world; in Toronto it's easy to be culture-less. So anyways, I look Irish. 02:21 - 03 October 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3 minute blog - Teenage Wasteland So it was a good night, a very good nghgt. Xenia and Kebndr ashowed up around noon, with an impressive array of alcohol bottles. Folks, lower the drinknig age or TEENAGERS STEAL! See? So we drank, adn drank. Then I set a tent up in my front yard and he hotboxed it. Kendra soon became sick from the Kahlua, Vodka, Broken Golf cart & al, so yeah, she passed out and we threw her in the shower and she got better. So we went to Burger king. The employees hate us there, because we always come in and order onion rings. i bet they spit on them. Anyways, we left and then we came back to my house and smoked some cigarettes. We played Mario 3 fro a while, then Kendra drove Xenia home. My day in a nutshell - with a sticky keybaord and a 3 minute blog 22:18 - 02 October 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meals on wheels I love Xenia and Kendra. Skipping school to come to my house with lkots of booze; this is life. 14:01 - 02 October 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- lol usa 4eva Too tired for an entry. Why not read this? 23:42 - 01 October 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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