Sunday, May 22
I'm so frustrated today, and I don't really know why. I think I'm becoming overly too sensitive to the weather. I seriously want nothing else but for it to be at a constant rate of being nothing but nice. None of this one day happy pappy sunshine weather, than three days of dark shit. None of that, I don't fucking want it. Partially because moist weather makes my allergies worse and that causes more irritability on my behalf.

Oh, and I also want nothing else but Stones tickets. I'd choose good Stones tickets over sunny weather any fucking day. I have no idea how I'll get them, being that I have practically no money, no will at all to go get a job, nor do I think that my folks would let me go. And the fact that no one ever wants to go with me to anything that I want to go to. Some folks like asking me to go somewhere with them and I usually say yes, but whenever I ask them they say they're busy. Fuckers. But I'd seriously prefer to go to a concert alone, therefore no stupid lame fuck party pooper would be holding me back from doing mischief. I mean, it's a fucking concert, who the hell doesn't want a chance to meet the band? I bet if I brought a stupid pussy with me to a concert they'd be like "No, I don't think we'd get in what if we get arrested??!" What a fucking chicken.

The only possible way I could see myself ever getting Stones tickets are if I enter some of my art into various contests. The last one I entered in, not the county one because that one was fucking free, I fucking lost and in addition never got my print back, which was my best one - which is why exactly I chose that one to be in the contest. What the fuck? That's four fucking hundred dollars down the drain there, man. Four hundred fucking dollars to wipe your ass with.

I had also been considering whether I'd see Velvet Revolver instead, nah I said, "Fuck it, I'd choose the Rolling Stones over Velvet Revolver any day. Or at least I wanna fucking see them before they shrivel up and blow away in the wind and the only interaction I'd ever get with them then is breathing those ashes up my nose and sneezing a lung out."

But of course I'm only dreaming here. I'm just saying shit that I hope would happen someday. I'm doing nothing to make it come true. How could I? It's taking me a half hour to decide whether I should vaccuum the house and eat a nice dinner, or not vaccuum the house and piss off my mom.

I've been so irritable lately. Nothing's going right. But it's not supposed to, that's how life is, and what matters is how you're going to make it fucking right and stop letting people fucking walk all over you like a waffle iron. And it makes me extremely uncomfortable when or how many times someone or the same person asks me if I have a boyfriend yet. No, that doesn't mean I'm a fucking homosexual. It just means that I have issues with myself. Issues as in I can't fucking socialize or be a slut enough to sell myself like every other successful person-in-bliss has done. I'm a horrible speaker. I can't socialize in a normal manner or show any affection. I'm stone cold. There, there's your fucking answer.

I think people are so curious about my love life because to be quite honest I don't think I'm such an ugly fuck, and for a person who's not that hideous looking to be alone for so long looks kind of odd. Well first I have to sort shit out with myself before I could start wasting my time with somebody else.

There's also the possibility that I tend to scare off people too often, unless they're stronger than my outer wall of sarcasm. I have such a low manly voice, I mean who the hell wouldn't be afraid of me? My mom has even told me that I scare her with my tone, even if I don't mean any harm at all.

Sundays could bite my ass, because they lead me to feeling sorry for myself and just sitting around and moping about it. Come on Diamond Dave, spread that ray of sunlight on me.

Last night I stayed up until 1:00 watching music videos on my computer. It was quite funny watching Motley Crue and Skid Row covering Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll." And I kept rewinding back and forth of Keith Richards in Rock and Roll Circus, yeah with his eye patch and all. I fucking amuse myself in the most pathetic of ways.


Christina N. @ 6:07 PM