i feel so weird all the time, mostly for feeling weird and then acting normal and then seriously wondering which emotion i am actually feeling. i sound so depressed. i'm just being ridiculous and dramatic. is my mind on auto pilot? Suddenly i don't understand math class, my teacher is a real dick anyway, her maiden name is pretty much the walrus' name from Tennessee Tuxedo (one letter off yeesh), second of all her voice is damn annoying and the same as Rachel (i refuse to spell it out the right way) Ray and i dislike Rachel Ray specifically for her voice and bad overexcessive typical wealthy depressive housewife slang. which IS my math teacher. which will also never be me. plus the fact that she always sounds so condescending. and that she "doesn't understand how people can enjoy literature and the arts" which is what she said to me when i told her i didn't like math. so defensive. calm down already. all i said was i didn't like math and she launches into this mini-rant about how she loves it and how it confuses her that people love other things. domo arigato? hmm? seriously.
i talked to noam (aka david / river) and it was funny because he just sort of IM'ed me and started asking me questions which sounds like something annoying i would do except it wasn't annoying, anyway i get to wear his glasses for thirty minutes unless peril strikes.
school was whatever, i took a math test, in art mr jaffe was weird ET creepy as usual, constance made a big deal about my pants, laura and i talked about poland spring and i wouldn't shut up about her pretty little blossom necklace (i'm still a rosebud and there she is with a blossom just standin out there. i feel so humbert humbert / joel) and we all went to the lunchroom to watch the inauguration even though by that time it was just useless Cadbury Cream eggs, and five minutes after sitting down some guy from the library whose name escapes me (boston? bostone? regardless he is certainly not a mighty mighty bosstone nor a bostonian, moving on) came in with this old woman and they were like "UH.. oh.. we were gonna take this down.. is anyone actually watching it..?" taking this down meaning the projector and equipment, i feebly raised my hand because the art room sucks (WHO DOESN'T USE THEIR OWN CLASSROOM?!?) and because i liked sitting in there talking in the (mostly) natural light. anyway he pointed to me and said "YOU?!" and i just said "forget it, nevermind" and before i finished he was already on his way up to unplug Everything. that woman trailed behind looking at me for a ssssmall lingering moment, looking like she felt bad for me, maybe she was just dazed & confused i don't know. then we got back to the art room and mr jaffe said to himself, just sort of out loud like he always does "i should have put up a bigger fight." what the FUck? no one was even watching it. sure "I WAS" (not) but give it a rest, everyone was being typical and indifferent anyway.
i never see anyone any more. i want to go to the city and get lost. i wouldn't be allowed to anyway which just proves how ridiculous everything is. why can't i be a little new yorker? running away from home would be fun. or a french woman in 1920s paris who gets involved in her own murder mystery. i miss english class (hhhhaaaazzzzzeeelllll). it was so the bomb. mr berner was the best teacher, he really doesn't know how cool he was. i would say inspiring but that feels gay right now / is probably not true (autopilot and everything~) and i say all this nonsense on here and scribble in my moleskine wasting precious, glossy european space that could be filled with this junk and i could make collages of old V&R or pugh shows or something for you on here because that would be more interesting to watch than reading this and expecting something actually interesting other than typical rambles about stars and school and egotistical banter that isn't polite or cute anymore, just atypical. how can something be typical and atypical at the same time? why do all my feelings come out at night on here? why can't i write a novel any more? where have my ideas gone? why is my fashion class so horrible? why did the coffee i drank give me (legitimately) atypical headaches? why didn't i read Lolita tonight? where's the inspiration? where's the magic? where's the moon? where has my sweet starboy gone? and Kitty and Mouse? where has everyone gone? and where have these people come from? who are you? who am i? it isn't even as if i don't know who i am, i don't know if i know or i don't know, that's how autopilot my life is. in fact it is so autopilot that all this autopiloteyness only comes out at night and i am completely different by day. happy. talkative.
on top of all this i lost my ipod earphones. i have to stop complaining and give something. why are rosebuds so selfish? i need to be sprinkled with sugar. i need to hug the moon. i need to wander the city.