Here I am, 9:30 in the morning, awake and dressed and showered, waiting for a chem tutor who just ponned chem. Woow-whee. Gah. I dunno what's more hilarious, cept that I have a chem test this wednesday, later in about five and a hours, I am going to step onto that bacteria-ridden pitch at CCAb and going to come face to face with Bucks. They are going down. Rightn now? I'm sitting at my computer listening to hits from the past, there were suppposed to be happyish songs. Although over an empty stomach with hydrochloric acid and other hormones pouring in all over the place reminding me I haven't eaten in about eight hours, and some distraught confused feelings, they seem so sad and fairytale-esque.
I guess I should really stop blog surfing. I mean some of them are really really good entertaining writers, albeit the rest are quite difficult to read, more like painful sometimes. Then I see all the photos, all the happy smiling faces. All the retardedness. Kinda makes me wonder where i left my retardedness. I should put up a notice init.
Lost: retardedness, last place seen, somewhere under elm's bridge. If found please
return to David, there's a reward.
Though Elm's bridge is some fictional cobswallop I just made up, complete with applesauce, it's a very real place somewhere in my heart. I do believe that you can never really lose your person. That person who you're supposed to be, that thing where you're just being 'yourself', ya that can't be lost. But, it sure as hell can be buried.
I think it goes deeper than that. I think burying yourself seems to have it's own working and visiting hours. Like depending on the time of the day (eg school..school..school) Visiting hours seem to be closed. Though I'm looking at this from a very negative point of view. I should just go find my shovel.
I need to stop seeing her smile.
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