Stutter Step
oh lala...
You know its funny. I always made fun of my mother for creating a blog, teasing her to no end. Well, me and my father. Yet here I am, in the college library pissing away valuable time that I'm supposed to using to work on a paper and a project, posting a blog.
I really have nothing to say at the current time.
I post shit on myspace, but that comes to no avail and I have no patience with that website sometimes. Most of the time. My laziness comes into play and all that html crap you are supposed to use to really make it worthwhile, is too much of a hassle. However, this is fairly similar. But I still like this one better.
There will more than likely be nothing coherent or worthwhile in this thing, merely my non-sensical babbling or venting about something that has pissed me off. Or poetry. Some form of expression. I can gaurantee that sometime in here, I will piss and moan about why I am alone, and why no one wants to be with me. But just bear with me. If I don't get them out, they fester in the pit of my heart and turn into a swamp where my emotions tend to dredge. That leads to a lovely self-imposed depression, of which nobody wants to hear about or see.
There ends my disclaimer.
My thoughts never last long enough for me to take the time to ramble them down on paper. Or computer. Or whatever. I wish I had the mastery of the written language that my mother has obtained. I envy her diction and hope that someday I will be able to make sense of the words that seem to float in my head.
I find it ironic that I'm listening to Pearl Jam as I tap this out, only because my mother mentions her boyfriend Eddie Vedder in her first blog. So like mother like daughter, eh? Oh how I never cease to entertain myself.
But its okay though, while she has Eddie Vedder, I put dibs on Jared Leto. He's my future husband... ^_^
You know its funny. I always made fun of my mother for creating a blog, teasing her to no end. Well, me and my father. Yet here I am, in the college library pissing away valuable time that I'm supposed to using to work on a paper and a project, posting a blog.
I really have nothing to say at the current time.
I post shit on myspace, but that comes to no avail and I have no patience with that website sometimes. Most of the time. My laziness comes into play and all that html crap you are supposed to use to really make it worthwhile, is too much of a hassle. However, this is fairly similar. But I still like this one better.
There will more than likely be nothing coherent or worthwhile in this thing, merely my non-sensical babbling or venting about something that has pissed me off. Or poetry. Some form of expression. I can gaurantee that sometime in here, I will piss and moan about why I am alone, and why no one wants to be with me. But just bear with me. If I don't get them out, they fester in the pit of my heart and turn into a swamp where my emotions tend to dredge. That leads to a lovely self-imposed depression, of which nobody wants to hear about or see.
There ends my disclaimer.
My thoughts never last long enough for me to take the time to ramble them down on paper. Or computer. Or whatever. I wish I had the mastery of the written language that my mother has obtained. I envy her diction and hope that someday I will be able to make sense of the words that seem to float in my head.
I find it ironic that I'm listening to Pearl Jam as I tap this out, only because my mother mentions her boyfriend Eddie Vedder in her first blog. So like mother like daughter, eh? Oh how I never cease to entertain myself.
But its okay though, while she has Eddie Vedder, I put dibs on Jared Leto. He's my future husband... ^_^
posted by Justine at 2:39 PM
1 Comments:
You can keep Jared Leto...and the only reason Eddie Vedder is my boyfriend, nay future husband, is because I dreamt about him that way. He must have been thinking about me too.
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