|
Twilight_moon
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: the All-Powerful Mwi
Gender: Female
Expertise: Lizbth describes me as an anime nerd.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/10/2004
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| Fuck Xanga, I'm done with it.
| | |
| And Curtis is in the bathroom again, the door's not closed. He was asleep on the sofa in the living room, asleep, so he wont sleep tonight, but Sophia slammed the front door and he woke up. "Who keeps slamming to front door, why does she keep slamming the front door." She three, three-year-olds slam the front door. They have not enough control to not slam the front door. Get over it, you shouldn't be sleeping now anyway. And my computer is being it's ridiculously slow self, something it never really gets over no matter how many times you have it do something. The page is loaded, it's still slower that tar. And now I have a bigger headache.
| | |
| I am officially out of bed at 2:21pm and it has made me very angry because I intended to get up at 10:00am. This means that I will not sleep tonight. Yay for me. I wanted to get up earlier but it was like my body would not listen to me, either I couldn't move or I fell asleep again. So not only did I not sleep until probably 5:45am, but I didn't even sleep continuously, kept waking up.
Without even realizing it, Curtis has scared the, well, nightlights out of me I guess, because it was at night. I was having trouble sleeping anyway because for whatever reason I kept picturing the monsters from a book I was reading. But then I heard the snuffling noises those monsters made, and I thought at first, wished at first, that it was my imagination. No. It was Curtis. Who knows what in the Abyss he was doing standing outside my door, sitting on a chair at the dining room table but sounding like he was right outside my door and now I'm writing like the author of that book and her alloneword words. But Curtis was breathing heavily, and yawning every other minute, and went to the bathroom twice, which is the room right next to mine, and by the way he doesn't close the door so if I couldn't hear it before (and I always can) I can certainly hear it now. And he kept moving the chairs around the table. And he was messing with my door, I thought my heart was going to burst I was so scared, especially when he dropped his cane, it made a loud and startling noise. And I think he wanted to get the chair out of my room, because it had been sitting at the dining room table but he didn't want to wake me and I didn't want to say anything, too scared even though I knew he just wanted the chair. He finally left and I was finally able to sleep, but then my alarm went off at 10:05am and I shut it off, then I was awake at 11:37 and took my pills. Was awake for a while and wanted to get up but my body was so tired. and I was asleep and awake, asleep and awake, and now, when I am able to look at the clock again I am angry, not as angry as last night when I was mostly done being afraid, but I am angry nonetheless, and as far as I know, that is a legitimate squeez of three words, not like stickywetblack that was in that book I read, GEEZ was that writing bad, but it had a good story and so I finished reading it but now I'm thinking of those dogs that aren't dogs, the dogs make of wood and wire and rubber and metal, the dogs with the glowing, hateful red eyes and the hollow panting, laughing sound they make. And now there are kids, a bunch of loud, obnoxious, annoying kids next door that don't know how to do what they're told and cry when the get in trouble because they 'didn't mean to' or 'weren't doing anything wrong'. I like that last one, you're told not to do something, you do it, then you say you weren't doing anything wrong. And now the sound that I think is their dog, the dog that is neglected most of the time, but I can't tell because my head hurts and I'm not hearing things well.
I think that's the last of my ramble, I ramble when I'm tired, but I don't say anything when I'm mad, so this is odd, that I say or wrote so much when I'm tired and mad. A rant, I guess, I do that sometimes, me and Emily, we'll rant to each other and it feels good getting it off your chest, telling someone things that you know they're not going to repeat to anyone because if they tell others your stories, you'll tell the same people hers, then we both look bad. This is piddly stuff, stuff I don't care who knows, so I type it here, that and I don't know where Emily is. But it doesn't matter, I've ranted about Emily on here once, and she doesn't use this site anymore. But her I feel slightly comfortable enough to confront her about what bothers me. I can't confront other people about their problems. So I keep it inside if necessary, and I tell Emily if, in the offchance someone overhears or she does tell others, it doesn't make too much of a difference.
And who the F-luff would want their xanga post to be on their facebook page? Why not just type it on facebook.com? People are getting too lazy recently (like I can talk, getting up at 2:30pm) and relying too much on facebook, makes me ashamed I'm a part of that community, or this one for associating with it.
| | |
| Not that I use Xanga a lot anyway, but I'm so confused with it that I think I'm going to stop using it all together. That makes me sad because then I wont have anywhere to rant and boy do I love to rant. I'm going to rant about Xanga right now, even though that's not what I wanted to write right now. This new Xanga stuff needs to burn. I hate it. Every time I log on I expect it to go straight to the page where I can type away all of my frustration and now, it doesn't do that. Now, I have to find and click on a whole new button to type stuff. And I get very frustrated because I can't seem to remember where that button is. I'm sad to say that if I knew Lizbth didn't come on my site, and to be honest I don't know if she does or how often she does, but if I knew for a fact that she did not visit this site, there would probably be a lot of words on here that I would be in a lot of trouble for saying. So every time I get on this webpage, I'm very angry about something. When I want to type how angry and why I am, I can't get to the correct page, which makes me even angrier. I hate it all. Not to mention I'm trying to find a good song to listen to on playlist.com, and they seem to have a total of four Three Days Grace songs(probably not the best band to listen to when you're angry, but I've already listened to some Papa Roach (blech) and Mudvayne, also angry music...). That's it. I just found one more, on page four. The first page is entirely the songs Pain and Riot. Anyway, so on to the other crap.
I went with Emily to Apryl's house, we watched some music videos. I said that I would like to be home at ten so I could watch an entertaining show. At Apryl's house, Apryl and her boyfriend Josh showed us the beginning of a music video that I absolutely hate. And I told them I did. The lyrics of the music are something that is absolutely disgusting and inappropriate and makes me think about things that I would much rather keep forgotten. At 9:30-ish I said I needed to go home. We were going to make a quick stop at Dave's Video to see if they had movies that Apryl and Emily wanted. Dave's was closed. It was 9:45. I thought, Okay, well that's enough time to get home. We stopped at Meijer. They got back to the car at 9:55. I missed my show. I missed fifteen minutes of the show by the time I got home, but by then I was too upset about being late, and especially the lyrics of the song to watch it. I think Lizbth and Curtis were watching it. Then I found that the guy who sings that song does the voice of Jack Skellington in Nightmare before Christmas. This may seem lame, but I don't want to watch that movie ever again because of it.
| | |
| I want to write on my xanga like I always do when I'm upset, but it kept giving me this 'Try our Xanga Premium!' crap with no link to go around it. So, after two or three irritating minutes I tampered with the web address and managed to get here. During the two or three minutes, I was screaming at the webpage... Anyway, I'm angry again, and I'm trying to find out if it's true anger, frustration, grumpy, or anything else, because if I can determine that, maybe I can determine the cause. So far? Just angry. Why? Not a clue. Which, of course frustrates me, more anger because I cant figure out what I'm angry about. Try to not be angry, can't do it, get angry because I can't stop being angry. Such a vicious little cycle. I've got the smallest of headaches, but I'm sure it's going to grow. I took a test today, and my eyes got so messed up trying to read the paper and comprehend what in the Abyss it was saying. My eyes did that while I was on the computer too, but not as bad as the paper. I think I might gouge the out. That'll solve the problem. When my eyes mess up, I get angry, gouge them out, one less thing to be angry about. I remember Becky/mum telling me that celery was good for something, so I ate some celery once, haven't been able to find any since. No celery on campus, silly people. And I can't remember what it's good for. Also, I could be in the middle of typing or saying something, and I'll get to a certain word, and just completely forget what I wanted to say. Hasn't happened yet while writing this, hopefully I didn't jinx it just now, but it's really really really frustrating when it does happen. Lizbth says to get used to it and that it's been happening to her for ever. I feel sorry for her, and I don't understand how she, or I, could get used to it. I'm waiting for her phone call now, and I have to go to work in a little under an hour. This room is so disgustingly dirty that I want to burn it all, much like I'd love to do at our house, but I haven't the time or energy to clean it now, especially considering most of the stuff that's bothering me is Gypsy's. Yes, I have a lot of stuff on the floor, but it's not in the way. I can not get into Gypsy's closet to put away this chair, this chair is in the way of my, there it is, I forgot the word... dresser, so I can't put my clothes away, and I can't get any of the dishes out of the bottom drawer of Gypsy's dresser. | | |
|
