it's embarrassing, that fluttering feeling i get in my tummy when i'm Googling and catch things like, "Emma Stone is a lesbian."
guilt.
and hope.
but.
i don't know if i've ever had that feeling of wanting to "sex" someone.
when i first saw Easy A, i thought to myself, Oh, man. I bet she'd be a really great little spoon.
my libido is stupid.
or it would be if i had one.
sometimes it feels like i gotta Pokemon that shiz.
catch it, i mean.
evolve it.
give it a cute name like Libidomon or Friskymon and bust it out of an undersized ball when the right grooves are playing and for the kind of person my Gym Leader warned me about.
...in the meantime, i have to get over myself and realize that, when i go out to bars or parties, not everyone i meet is going to be all up for hooking up in a purely - literally - Biblical sense, where legs are clapped shut and the only thing i'm looking for is a good cuddle.
it's weird how strong this need to cuddle is.
i'm cuddle-horny.
corny.
so much so that when i see someone like Emma Stone i say, "Boy, would I wanna cuddle her bones. Just get right up in there and SNUGGLE."
hot damn.
maybe i should pay someone.
i'm finally coming to the end of my first-ever completed journal.
last night, i decided to go back and revisit some of those undoubtedly cringeworthy notes, jokes, and, yes, even lyrics. i also decided it was high-time i share some with you.
feel free to laugh and/or hold them against me.
here we go:
1. the first entryAttempt #? at trying to start/maintain a journal.
-> Optimism: thinking, against all odds, that my life will somehow be interesting enough to fill these pages (or, at least, more interesting than before).
Maybe if I do this my way (just for me), it'll be better.
And someday I will sell it for MILLIONS.
[insert 2 poorly drawn dollar signs in green and with "3D" shadowing] -> (sidenote) I'm going to start doodling, too, so when people discover this in the future they'll think, "My God! An artist, too! So trendy! She must get all the ladies!"
[break]
Theory/Fact:
Any/all famous artists, no matter what their actual histories must have been, can always re-evalutate [->(sidenote) I can't spell, though "evalutate" does have a nice ring to it)] and reimagine their pasts. And they do. Should, really, because, let's face it: the biggest trend I see (or pretend to see) is that truly great artists were once HUGE weenies.
It's inevitable.
Non-weenies can't produce great art.
They have no need to.
In every artist's past, there is a bespectacled, buck-toothed, awkward teenager, itching to get a mini-journal published.
FACT.
[break]
I'm probably mostly kidding about this, though. About the money and ladies thing, I mean.[end.]2. my current situation
1. At USC, biding my time.
2. 20 years old, 3rd year of college.
3. In a relationship??!!!
4. Getting in touch with my pissy side. Unfortunate timing for my first-ever girlfriend.
5. Hungry, waiting for her to wake up so we can have what will, at this hour, be lunch.
6. Loving the fact that the "artistic" aspect of this journal is failing so wonderfully. Although, the ink blot stains on my hand make me feel so much more artistic and creative and bohemian, which is good enough for me.
[break]
I'm not a very good person.
At least, that's what a number of people who are currently in my life must be thinking.
I am, actually, very flawed.
But who isn't?
So cliche, but so true.
I don't even know why I'm ranting about this right now, actually.
[end.]
3. painfully embarrassing lyrics
"Heavy Heart"
Inky hands scratching away
Making the words I can't say
Your love isn't lost on me, darling
I'm just in an unworthy state
But this love makes my heart heavy
I can't stand or see or speak
For your own sake, darling
Try to run away.
[and the alternate lyrics:]
You're locked up in a prison cell
I wanna set you free
Got the key here in my pocket, love,
Now make like a tree and leave.
...hahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
oh holy Jeebus.
that was painful to read.
you're welcome!
