creative writing excersize
so my parents. they’re okay, i guess. i mean, they’re really good people and all that, but they’re loud, my dad more so. & my house is small & becoming smaller & bordering on claustrophobic. so i lock the door to my broom-closet room with a slide-lock from the 1600’s or something & try to ignore my dad tramping around and chewing loudly and oh my god why can i hear him chewing through this thick-ass door. my house is becoming claustrophobic and my school is becoming claustrophobic and this town is becoming claustrophobic and i’m ready for greener pastures.
tumblr is not only good for self-gratification (21 followers what) and wasting hours of my time and for cough syrup-chugging gents from Pensicola but also for the weird mashup music that you can find sometimes. Example: last night I was ready for either Death or my fairy godmother to show up because either of them were better than this essay on American Eugenics that I didn’t actually want to write but spinney (history teacher) told me to so hey. suddenly, i see a mashup of “royals” and “come together” and that made me want Death slightly less. (i’m fine really)
joy is rare in my angst-ridden life. (really) not Joy the person, I see her all the time, but actual unadulterated happines. i have to fake it when other people are laughing really hard at something I said even though maybe i didn’t mean it like a joke (although I probably did) or maybe it’s because it’s not rewarding to make these same people laugh anymore. no, that’s not true. it’s rewarding. but it doesn’t bring me as much joy. maybe it isn’t these people. I made Jack Handy laugh and I expected trumpets and angels but not much happened. claustrophobia.
(it was at this point that a girl in my class looked at me with these knowing eyes and i looked at her and did the perfect smile-falter-head-take to the side thing that all the damaged characters in shows do. it’s been a long week.)
oh man Tomasita’s burritos are the best & made all the work on that Junior day so worth it. little bummed that I wasn’t sitting at rob’s and molly’s and zoe’s table though, because I felt like I was missing some of Rob’s quips or Molly’s little wisdoms or Zoe’s almost-surprised-but-not-quite laughs. it’s rewarding to make zoe laugh, actually, i think because i usually can’t and she laughs at my warm-up jokes but not at my big-funny jokes. speaking of molly, she had a dream in which i literally put my own head on a platter & smothered it in chile. there’s a metaphor in there somewhere. the platter part, not the chile part.
friends are tricky business because i haven’t really left my house in the past few weeks due to a combination of too much work and an unwillingness to even look at said work for fear of heart attack. My Prep friends have invited me out a couple of times, but each time I turned them down because of work. I sent my Art School Friend a long text explaining why i’m about 1/327th honorary Cherokee and why that totally helps my college application and he texted me back “Jeremiah” “that was” “literally” “the funniest shit I have ever read” and I sent back “just FYI” to a reply of “but rully tho.” So friends are tricky business.