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divorced's Journal

History

13th May 2003

8:19am: Tybalt dead. Romeo is banished.
My soy yogurt exploded in my bag.
I saw bgs at some college fair.
My nose is still running.
I have to teach little kids Spanish today...err...I am nervous?
I miss Lola.
Where is Lola?
What has become of my Lola?

Luckily, Jessie found out about a Buzzcocks concert at Slims.
I am already day-dreaming about stealing clothes from AMS and seducing the Lank to be my beau. It never ends.
No motivation/no sleep=insanity
12:19pm: muy guapo.
I must print a retraction.
Or at least...err...small note.

The Buzzcocks, as I have been informed by ticketmaster/the devil, are playing at the FILLMORE. June 8th, for $22.50. What a beautiful thing. I love the Fillmore. The bartender and I have become good friends. I think because I was the only non-retarded person at the Bright Eyes show...and the door man loves me because I was at the X show. Something about being too young to like the "cool" music. So now it is set. I will go. I think I will wear some pumps...dreams of the ones Didi's mind created...and something a little fashion whore-ish.

quote: "Diego Rivera is one of the ugliest people I have ever seen"--Nancy, my partner.
5:46pm: make some noise.
So: Black pumps, black and white polka-dot dress..., white fish-nets. I know what you are thinking. But they will be the close knit sort...you know? Fashion ladies know. They know.

I am going to take a ballet class Monday.

I had a nightmare where I watched my Joy Division lover kill himself...and I could not stop him.
Damn that movie for corrupting my mind.
He exists in my heart.

Hey, I could not comment because my computer is evil but...Travis, I wanted to say that I would kill for your joy division shirt.
Current Mood: orgasmic
9:22pm: louder louder louder louder
I have used this too much today.
But.
On my show tonight, they played X and one of the walk-talk characters was PETE.
PETE PETE PETE PETE.
Big Pete at that.
I was like, "PPPPPPPEEETTTTEEE", because I am in love with Pete.
Current Mood: tired
9:58pm: needle in my arm.
your hand on his arm
the hay stack charm around your neck
strung out and thin
calling some friend trying to cash some check
he's acting dumb
that's what you've come to expect
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
he's wearing your clothes
head down to toes a reaction to you
you say you know what he did
but you idiot kid
you don't have a clue
somtimes they just get caught in the eye
you're pulling him through
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
now on the bus
nearly touching this dirty retreat
falling out 6th and powell a dead sweat in my teeth
gonna walk walk walk
four more blocks plus the one in my brain
down downstairs to the man
he's gonna make it all ok
i can't beat myself
i can't beat myself
and i don't want to talk
i'm taking the cure so i can be quiet
whenever i want
so leave me alone
you ought to be proud that i'm getting good marks
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
needle in the hay
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