Stream of Consciousness.

Sat Jan 17

The bitchblog.

“Hot body”?

Fat. body.

That’s all I have to say about that.

Tue Jan 13
I always make lists. (6AM- Get up. Shower. Eat. Put on makeup. Get dressed.) It helps my mind stay focused, and de-stress. My life’s biggest list? 1. Take Honors/AP classes [x] 2. Take PSAT [x] 3. Take SAT [x] 4. Apply to Seattle Pacific [x] 5. Get into Seattle Pacific [x] 6. Get scholarships [x] I’d say I’m doing pretty well.

I always make lists.

(6AM- Get up. Shower. Eat. Put on makeup. Get dressed.)

It helps my mind stay focused, and de-stress.

My life’s biggest list?

1. Take Honors/AP classes [x]

2. Take PSAT [x]

3. Take SAT [x]

4. Apply to Seattle Pacific [x]

5. Get into Seattle Pacific [x]

6. Get scholarships [x]

I’d say I’m doing pretty well.

Sat Jan 10

It’s too much, yeah it’s a lot…

…to be something I’m not.

Wed Jan 7

Dear SPU:

Did I do too many negative-karmic things to be admitted to your fine institution of higher academic learning?

Because I worked pretty damn hard to be good enough for you.

Tue Jan 6

Baby keep my heart… bbbbeating.

“Yes, I think you are a terrible worker.”

“Side ponytails make you look like you are a washed-up nineties cheerleader.”

“I know you don’t like me because you’re jealous :)”

“Must suck to be you.”

“Are you still my best friend?”

“That last one wasn’t about you.”

“Thanks.”

Breath.

k,nowit’stimeforhistoryhomework.

Sat Jan 3
“

Drain the veins in my head
Clean out the reds in my eyes to get by security lines
Dear x-ray machine
Pretend you don’t know me so well
I won’t tell if you lied
Cry, cause your droughts been brought up
Drinkin’ cause you’re lookin so good in your starbucks cup
I complain for the company that I keep
The windows for sleeping rearrange
When I’m nobody
Well who’s laughin now


I’m leaving your town, again
And I’m over the ground that you’ve been spinning
And I’m up in the air so baby hell yeah
Well honey I can see your house from here
If the plane goes down, damn
I’ll remember where the love was found
If the plane goes down, damn

Damn, I should be so lucky
Even only 24 hours under your touch
You know I need you so much
I cannot wait to call you
And tell you that I landed somewhere
And hand you a square of the airport
And walk you through the maze of the map
That I’m gazing at
Gracefully unnamed and feeling guilty for the luck
And the look that you gave me
You make me somebody
Oh nobody knows me
Not even me can see it.

January third, two thousand and nine.

So this is the new year, and I don’t feel any different.