Last, Last Week’s
Yoh, It’s been quite a while since I’ve been here so let me start blabbing and you could stop reading whenever you want to… Like as if ANYONE’S going to read it… SO let’s start. Okay, a week ago (Friday 2nd to be exact) I trimmed my hair out of depression and straightened it too!! I wanted to lift my self esteem and MAN did it cost me. But not a lot was lifted. I also trimmed my hair to get rid of HIM from my mind but I guess he poked his finger in the core of my heart too deep that a chip of his fingernail is there… Ugh… Why does love have to hurt so~ much? QWAAAAAAHH~~~~ Anyway, before the trim, I had fallen for this guy (how easily guys snatch my heart… Must be my freaking hormones) who works in a family business of this crazy little art shop of wonders. The only thing they don’t sell there is him. Anyway… yea. SO I was actually trying to ‘CUT’ my hair, get rid of HIM and try to get the art guy’s name but I guess when people cut their hair they mean “I forget everything about that person” and the stupid thing is… I’VE JUST TRIMMED my hair… UUUUWWAHAHAHAHAAAAGHH~!! (WARNING: This sound effect is a combination of hysterical self hate, self pity and self sarcastic criticism. If you are feeling this mixed emotion, please consult a psychologist and maybe even a holy person in case of the unexpected.) When I saw him in school I was like *Thump* 3 seconds wait *Thump* 3 seconds wait *Thump* on my heart and when he passed by and disappeared it was like thumpadity-thumpa-thumpadity-tum for 5 seconds in every 2 milliseconds! Talk about trying to get rid of someone! Ok… back to Friday… If that wasn’t bad enough right, I came home late. My driver wanted to get this VERY RARE card for my naïve big brother and I told my driver again and again that he wouldn’t find it around where we were. He went into five shops and still he couldn’t find it and I told him for the umpteenth time he wouldn’t be able to find it but he went into another shop again. I mean like… How many times do I have to tell him? MY GOD. My head was like burning, I started to shout at him and my cousin, bless his innocent soul, was being nice and sat back. (He apologized if he had done anything to do with making me so angry; I told him he hasn’t anything to do with it.) Then after sending my cousin home, there was another shop on the way home and he was like, “Boss, should I go to this shop?” snap I mean like, didn’t he understand? My hands clenched and I could hear my flesh tighten in my hands clamped state. I mean like, if I hadn’t screamed at him then, I think I would have knocked him out. But, I couldn’t. I wish I could drive so that I could tell him to stop, step out then punch his lights out before putting him in the trunk and drive home. How my dreams of torturing the smoking stick insect (he’s skinny and he smokes) make me smile even now. The whole days after that trim was my broody, mood swing and screaming on top of lungs week. It wasn’t even because of my period ‘coz I had it like a few days ago! (Sorry if there are guys reading this, I know how much SOME people don’t like reading about PMS.) On Saturday I started to kick the car wheels and started shoveling the ground behind the pond for no reason. I knew though that it was enough to fit a whole man in. On Sunday, I stayed in the house not doing my homework and asked my little sister how to lift my self esteem and she started singing this weird, funny song from an Angel episode: “Self esteem is for everybody, Self esteem is for everyone, You can be anybody, But self esteem is the way it’s done.” I just smirked and almost whacked her head then but it was funny, lifted one bar in my self esteem gauge of three hundred bars. Then I lied on bed and started at the ceiling fan that kept on spinning lazily. On the Monday of school, people looked at my hair and was like “You straightened it!” and stuff like that. I didn’t even care you know, I was like dazing off and out of the world. Staring into space and outside the windows were what I was doing for the whole day. Teachers started wondering if I was alright. Though the attention I was getting made me wonder why they didn’t do so before, I didn’t see it as attention but being nosily concerned. On Tuesday, the same thing happened. On Wednesday I decided I wanted to meet art guy but I couldn’t go the afternoon ‘coz my mom picked me up and we went straight home after a little detour to an ice cream shop… (Contradictory, ain’t it?) On Thursday, NOTHING HAPPENED. I was still broody and angry though. On Friday, the stick insect annoyed me again and how I wished we were next to the washing machine at home so that I could just drop him in there while sitting on the lid as he gets rinsed. Actually, no… I wouldn’t do that. That would ruin the washing machine. I should have just buried him alive in the hole I dug. But the crazy chickens (Did I ever mention my family raises hand sized chickens etc? Well now you know.) had built their little nests there. Back to Monday, I was drawing graffiti on my old folders. On Tuesday, my mood was getting better but the insect made it worse by doing this and that. HE ANNOYED ME SO MUCH IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE. Then my mom told me to type up the formal letters that she had handwritten. Everything became so bright and beautiful. My eyes shone like a flashlight in a photographer’s darkroom. It was a letter to transfer the skinny bug to another place!!! HECK YEAH! I’m so happy. I was reading the freaking letters out loud! God is that one of the happiest moments of my life or what? Today, in this early morning of this Wednesday, I wonder what the day will be? ^_^ I think EDEN needs to eat more fertilizer. I mean like, I’ve promised her that I’d get her fertilizer but I haven’t given her any and now, she’s being suicidal and starving herself to death. She says she wants good fertilizer. Her exact words were: (with altered foul words for kids under-aged, hehe) “Daymn you, bihachi! I told you time and again that I want you to get me some phucking high quality fertilizer on that phucking ugly bihachi hands of yours and feed it to my phucking roots. You’ve been phucking with my leafdo (hairdo) by plucking them off my phucking head. I believe I deserve more than phucking shhyt, don’t you think so, bihachi? No go and phuck yourself before I phucking break this phucking vase you put me into.” Of course, at that time I was high. But I still got her the fertilizer she asked for.
