haey os

CRACKING KNUCKLES. LOADING TRAINING SEQUENCE.

BEGIN.

I would like to say I've changed. Evolved. Transcended. I would like to say I've succeded at my dream and have a steady boyfriend and all those wholesome things The fact of the matter is I am still very much Michelle.

I don't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

So there was this retarded party, right? Kids pretty much getting drunk. Older kids chasing highschool kids, kids who looked like everyone I ever knew in high school, etc. And then there was me because I hadn't gotten really nicely drunk in two whole months.

So at first I was like this

9:00 pm

And then I was like this

12:00 am

I got it into my head that I would live in that little trellis. I was told I'd been calling out; DO YOU WANNA BE MY ROOMATE IN HERE when someone would walk by.

I guess the people I came with who I knew only a little better than everybody else found me and stopped the real weirdoes from crawling in. I also kept telling them to "smell me out".

One of them is this real sweet 16 year old kid and this was actually his first time getting drunk and I actually felt bad because my influence is heinous. Not that I care or anything. And his sister and me just pinched his cheeks a lot because we were mostly wasted.

In retrospect I feel bad for the kid because he was probably trying to score a lay and we kept scaring away the girls who were his actual age. I told him to aim for the hearts and I felt like a wise old sage because I was Giving Sound Advice.

Some of the partygoers I actually do remember.

Notable mentions go out to the guy with a million piercings who asked if I was 18, the woman with the rasping cough who coughed alcohol breath that could have been lit on fire, and a billion other douchebags I can't remember anymore.

Basically I just got drunk and yelled at people and then slept in the front seat of a car I'm 99% sure someone probably had sex in just a moment before. I have a nose like a bitchin' wolf. I'm pretty sure it's my best sense. I was also pretty sure I could smell stuff like attraction and wishful thinking and disappointment and embarrasment and mostly piss. But the feeling of knowing a lot passed.


So now it's okay. I've had my party binge and all is right and clear and clarified in the world. It puts things in perspective, reminds me of my ideals and wants and needs and etc. I haven't made any real friends, but that's okay. Nothing here is actually real.

I've been on a diet for a week now and fuck my life. I don't know what I'm trying to accomplish. Self torture, I guess. I like that shit.

This island sucks ass and its just a matter of working to make enough money to get off it and life is pretty much all about money now and when will I get off work and when will your people get off work so you can drink and when do you have time to do this for me and when did that ever happen. I buck and kick but this leather crap never comes off.

Mr. Pube is treating me like shit. I'm convinced I'm the worst writer/plotter/what have you ever. I've been kicked and spat on and I've gotten back up each time only to get kicked and spit on again. I have to keep up two blogs because one is where they look and one is where you guys look. I'm writing some new crap book which will probably never net me representation because people mostly only like edgy contemps. S'okay. I will look back at this time one day and laugh.

Because that's what this time is good for.

Laughs.

And motherfucking shots.