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A number of months ago, I waved to my mailman. Not only did he not return the wave, but he looked at me like I was giving him the finger with one hand and pointing to the finger with the other. That was the last time I ever celebrated eye-to-eye contact with an acquainted stranger. When you can't wave to a person who's been your mailman for years upon years, a person (who knows where you live, who handles your post) whom you see every day but never talk to, you can't wave to anyone. Awkward moments like that, you know. They make things difficult for day-to-day living.
I'm at a point, a familiar point, where I feel like the people I'm fond of, who I believe should be fond of me, are growing less fond of me. I dunno, I get this way. I feel like the people I like don't like me. It's stupid, but I've been there before. What makes it easier this time is that I'm working overnights at Best Buy. So aside from those I work with, livejournal people are the only one who know what's up with my life. I'm making it so the only people who know what's going on with me are you guys, my livejournal friends. You guys are my guys. Because the Internet doesn't know day from night. In no particular order:
Karen: I haven't seen you in ages. I think the last time was at Stingers. I didn't know your last name then. You got married and I don't know it now. We both went to Geneseo. You were a Gamma Chi. You teach art. Your students make awesome art work.
Vito: You've got more opinions than anyone I know. One of the guys I voted for on Tuesday was named Vito. You like Ron Paul almost to the point of homosexuality. Remember when you sent me pills through U.S. Post? What a mess that was! Probably that mailman was to blame.
Becky: You do arts and crafts. You don't eat meat. I do. We're like Felix and Oscar, except I'm the messy one. I like how you do arts and crafts. I eat meat, oops sorry but I like it.
Luis: We've been friends forever and you're back on livejournal. I'll say this here, since it's easier to type, I really don't like your screaming music. It's all preference, I know. But that's my thing. Music shouldn't be screamed. It should be either sung or yelled. What you do solo is great and/but can (read: will) be done so much better if you drop the scream and monkey accompaniment (see Animal Collective).
Josh:
Of the limp-wrists, Josh ranks #1,
He fucks ass unsurpassed with his "gun"
He's the top-rated queen:
A Faggot Supreme.
No asshole is safe from his cum.
Clay: 8===========D
l0ve
sat
Seasons 1-8 of Seinfeld are $16.99 at Best Buy.
I'm at a point, a familiar point, where I feel like the people I'm fond of, who I believe should be fond of me, are growing less fond of me. I dunno, I get this way. I feel like the people I like don't like me. It's stupid, but I've been there before. What makes it easier this time is that I'm working overnights at Best Buy. So aside from those I work with, livejournal people are the only one who know what's up with my life. I'm making it so the only people who know what's going on with me are you guys, my livejournal friends. You guys are my guys. Because the Internet doesn't know day from night. In no particular order:
Karen: I haven't seen you in ages. I think the last time was at Stingers. I didn't know your last name then. You got married and I don't know it now. We both went to Geneseo. You were a Gamma Chi. You teach art. Your students make awesome art work.
Vito: You've got more opinions than anyone I know. One of the guys I voted for on Tuesday was named Vito. You like Ron Paul almost to the point of homosexuality. Remember when you sent me pills through U.S. Post? What a mess that was! Probably that mailman was to blame.
Becky: You do arts and crafts. You don't eat meat. I do. We're like Felix and Oscar, except I'm the messy one. I like how you do arts and crafts. I eat meat, oops sorry but I like it.
Luis: We've been friends forever and you're back on livejournal. I'll say this here, since it's easier to type, I really don't like your screaming music. It's all preference, I know. But that's my thing. Music shouldn't be screamed. It should be either sung or yelled. What you do solo is great and/but can (read: will) be done so much better if you drop the scream and monkey accompaniment (see Animal Collective).
Josh:
Of the limp-wrists, Josh ranks #1,
He fucks ass unsurpassed with his "gun"
He's the top-rated queen:
A Faggot Supreme.
No asshole is safe from his cum.
Clay: 8===========D
l0ve
sat
Seasons 1-8 of Seinfeld are $16.99 at Best Buy.
