gingerbread

i remember when i used to rock so fucking hard. now all i want to do is stick "the boy with the arab strap" by belle and fucking sebastian in my pussy.

the other day i was wearing my dead moon shirt, and this guy started talking to me about dead moon and whateverthefuckitis arrows and whatnot, and i felt so fucking fake. it was the kind of guy i used to totally flip for, and my lack of ability to feel worthy of a record dork made me really resent jacob. then jacob was like, "i wish i had some x", and i was all like, "seriously? i didn't think you liked x". and he was serious, and i was all like..oh, i am just getting old.

but that kind of made me happy. now i have to accept responsibility for my actions aka being a pussy.

a rollercoaster ride...