do so many suburis your hand turns sore; eat so much you feel like puking; dance so much your feet are aching; roll backwards so much your kneecaps are black and blue; emo so much you can't knock out of it.

not yet.

need to get into the emo zone.

shouldn't be that difficult.

come on, come on.

hit me now.

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i like looking at girls' hair.

straight; wavy; curly; black; golden; mix-dyed; short; long; mid-length; bangs; no bangs; side-swept; pulled back; pinned up; let down;

but particularly, 

it's really kinda cute when they tie a ponytail and because it's not tight enough/its kinda loose it becomes slightly like poofy and roundish and it's slightly drooping and some strands are falling out a little. i dont know why but i adore it. but i simply cannot tolerate it myself. not on my head.

i love it when the pony tail comes loose, and then the girl just gets a little frustrated and pulls the rubber band away and lets the hair go free. it's so nice, cause you can just fling it around and it can go anywhere it wants freely, or according to which side your head goes, or the direction the wind blows or something. 

i guess if my hair didn't grow on my head, but was a separate entity on it's own,

maybe i would appreciate it much more.

cause i don't really think it's that great.

and all this hair talk...

it's really random, and maybe it sounds sick,

but i'm random anyway, so who cares?

---------------------------------------------

i feel a little sad.

let's say your order one egg and one plaster, and it comes nicely packed in the packet with rubber band, and when you open it it's nice and warm. 

then you proceed to eat the egg [just a random thing since the egg prata happens to be on the top]. 

by the time you finish and want to start on the plaster,

the plaster is cold already =(

why?

why?

then you think to yourself,

why didn't i just order one instead?

cause cold pratas taste horrible,

just like eating cold flour. 

or dough, anyway.

but you look at the plaster sitting alone on the brown wrapping paper,

sitting alone, all by itself, cold, and not nice anymore,

and i kind of feel bad/sad for it.

so i eat it anyway,

and feel sad.

oh well.

--------------------------------------------

almost there.

sigh.

i think we all know we engage in pathological behaviour of some sort, 

but we can't snap out of it. 

an old post, my personal favourite for now: [let me revise so i can get into the emo zone]

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some things cannot be avoided;
cannot be dealt with;
reasoned, rationally;

like a drug addict drawn to his vice; a shoppaholic to her spending; a binge-eater to food; a bulimic to forced-puking; an OCD patient to her rituals and obsessions; a schizophrenic to imaginary voices; a drunkard to his alcohol; a wife to her abusive husband; a Münchausen's sufferer to feigning illnesses and symptoms; a depressive to self-mutilation; a girl to her tattoos; a boy to his piercings; a fan to his or her idol; a pessimist to his misgivings

uncontrollably drawn;
pulled towards;
absorbed into;
controlled;

we lie, we cheat,
we tell ourselves it will be alright;
we darenot say what lies ahead of us;
we dare not speak of what lies within us;

we will never be able to tell our mothers that we smoke pot; that we make out in the middle of cutting class; that we set the fire alarm on the spur of the moment; that we shoplift because of a silly dare; that we had sex out of peer pressure; that we stick out fingers into our throat in the toilet; that we leave scars and bloodstains on our wrists with pen knifes and tweezers; that we wash and scrub our hands until they turn red and sore; that all our good friends really dont exist; that we experience an unbelieveable high when we feel pain;


that sometimes because everything is out of control;
these are the only things we can do,
the only things we can grasp,
the only things we can hold;

that makes us feel alive.

nobody will ever know;
because nobody has the right to question,
and nobody ever should.