kelland

I don't even know what I miss anymore. It's almost two in the morning and I am awake, wide awake. I was hungry so I ate and I was bored so I wrote. I yearn to make my way upstairs, into my bed, say my prayers... and fall asleep. The way I did when I was a child. The way I did when my grandma spent the night and took care of my sister and I and sang "Jesus Loves Me" to us before tucking us in. Like how my dad would chase me around the bottom floor of my house and I would scream to the top of my lungs because I didn't want to be tickled anymore. And my mom taught my sister and I how to play Mario because she was the expert. My sister and I wrote and illustrated our own comic books with superheros we considered our imaginary friends. We would act out movies and sitcoms, pretending to be our imaginary friends, who, in our imaginary world, were prestigious and glamourous. On hot summer days, my grandma would surprise my sister and I by suddenly spraying us with the hose while she watered her flowers. I always used to fall off my bike when taking turns too fast. Then a young girl grows up and away from that shit. She doesn't eat because she thinks she's fat and she doesn't sleep because she thinks she's wasting her time. She wants to overachieve and excel in everything to prove herself worthy. She wants to be beautiful and desireable to any sex, anyone who will give her a slice of their attention, and once they do, she will latch on and never let go. And she wants to mean something to someone, anyone but the people that really matter, like family. Because you see, when she says she's lonely, what she really means is that the person she wants to talk to won't talk to her, or hasn't for a long time. What she really means is that she's tired of the plastered images everywhere that remind her that she doesn't and won't always have everything she wants. What constitutes? Relationships. Friendships. Meaning. Purpose. Life is an endless trial to win over all four. But what the fuck does she really want? Right now, a tall glass of something cold and a warm bed and something to dream about when she gets there. A day tomorrow that offers a chance to smile and push it all away. A day that you can fucking recognize and remember my name.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

EDITED TO SAY: My stomach is fucked. Fuckety fuck fuckish.

But I am trying to eat. Right now it's some Thanksigiving leftovers. Mashed potatoes and broccoli and cheese casserole... I have them sort of mixed together. I burnt my toungue on my hot tea and then on my mashed potato and broccoli mixture. I burn my tongue way too often.

I am a fucking terrible driver. I ran a red light today. Switched lanes way too fucking early. Almost drove into a field last night exiting the Wal*mart parking lot because it was dark and rainy and the wipers on my sister's car suck. Then my left turn was way too short and I almost ran into a guy sitting at the light. Bad.

I am staying at home today and resting. Resting my heart, my mind, my body.

Jessica came over Friday and we had fun pretending to be rock stars. You can catch a glimpse of our weirdness in my candids. We almost weren't able to capture the magic because the batteries to my camera died. And so I had to hop in the car and drive to my grandma's and get batteries out of her fridge and come back home. I did this in about five minutes tops.

My grandparents and dad are in Florida with my uncle right now. My sister and I have to go over to grandparents' and clean and take care of the animals two times a day. It's not much fun. They have more cats than you can count on both hands and feet. And cats make messes. And these messes aren't very pleasant to witness as soon as you wake up and haven't eaten anything yet and your stomach is a wrenching pit of nausea.

I watched Requiem for a Dream last night. That made me feel very, very, very sad.

I'm not changing out of my pajamas today. I don't see the point.