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divorced's Journal

History

26th August 2002

6:07pm: paper flowers and to carry home a naked soldier.
Oh what a waste, army dreamers.


Oh what a waste, boys with electric smiles.


That is all I wish to say about that.

If you were a shy one, you would look down, or away not up.









Well today was death. I ran errands all day, waited in line to get my social security card for work, and was terribly hot. There is this mix tape by Julie that is just superb...what is this? Ah yes, Cocteau Twins.

Ordinary boys.



Back to death. I went to Whole Foods to put my # in the computer so that I can work soon, and the lady had already gone home. Argh. I will never get to work I tell you. So tomorrow, the day my mother with the car works, I will have to go back. To add to it, I will have to walk. It is not just that I am out of shape, it is this heat. It kills me. What happened to the winter of last night? I wish I could just wear a scarf without feeling silly.



My nails, the hot pink ones, are dying now. The pink is sliding to the middle and the sparkles, sparkle no more.


After I get off this machine I will return the messages left on my little speaker. Do not worry.




You are nice to look at, to this they all agree.
But to me...hmm...I like to look at your teeth.


White like my heart, black like my soul.
Current Mood: nervous
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