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I forget my dream, now, but it was..
So, I woke up like around 1 P.M. I ate liverwurst, and for the 1st time I couldn't finish it. I had wheat bagels with butter, like yesterday.. I mean I didn't finish my 2nd slice of liverwurst after the Oscar Meyer Weiner my dad got turkey on a white bakery bread with ketchup and for the 1st time in awhile mustard. I had some Valentine's stuff.. Having Chef Boyardee canned macaroni and cheese.. Let's see, yesterday, had Chicken Quesedilla.. yes, I want the stuff at Tulane, the sandwich that's open all night.. hot chicken wings with this white cheesey sauce, don't know what it is, is hot and like has some certain twang or thing to it but not foamy like a Tulane taco.. It's pretty big and a bit ridiculously hard to finish. Large Oreo Crumble, $4.
I woke up and tried to cry and stimulate myself, did some, felt like my hamster dying with its teeth taken away.. then I stimulated myself and did it but not much but this time was happy I didn't.
So, I told the teacher I forget the old assignment in Voice for the Actor I missed because it was memorizing like a little paragraph. She has another class, and I had to memorize something. I left, though. I gave her a pink, cold vase with a set of red roses and white little flowers. I got raspberry chocolates with my psych money.. She came on the stage, and I hoppped 1 step down the broad stairs. Took my shoes off later and even like walked very very slowly, like a robot, you know.. In the locker, my toes almost crossed, like an Altamonte Springs mystery, ancient thing. Like, they seemed like 1 and would twist up forever. Like a ghost story. 00 I gave out candies some. I was late to Improv(isation) in the rain, as I said. I asked the teacher stuff after class, like about singing and then why no one like hung out. I told her in Talented Theater, I stayed late to help put books away. It seemed very important. My teacher was from New Orleans. She was very attractive, and at drama club people thought I was her daughter. She was about 10 years older, 10-15, you know like 29 and I was 16. Her last name was French. I don't know if I got that mad. I did when the teacher kept fucking after I missed an assignment like a fetish or irritation. She called my future son a nigger to be safe and I ended up just storming off because it wasn't really funny.. just an itch, something that went on, she wouldn't leave me alone, when I was mad.
I forget my dream, now, but it was..
So, I woke up like around 1 P.M. I ate liverwurst, and for the 1st time I couldn't finish it. I had wheat bagels with butter, like yesterday.. I mean I didn't finish my 2nd slice of liverwurst after the Oscar Meyer Weiner my dad got turkey on a white bakery bread with ketchup and for the 1st time in awhile mustard. I had some Valentine's stuff.. Having Chef Boyardee canned macaroni and cheese.. Let's see, yesterday, had Chicken Quesedilla.. yes, I want the stuff at Tulane, the sandwich that's open all night.. hot chicken wings with this white cheesey sauce, don't know what it is, is hot and like has some certain twang or thing to it but not foamy like a Tulane taco.. It's pretty big and a bit ridiculously hard to finish. Large Oreo Crumble, $4.
I woke up and tried to cry and stimulate myself, did some, felt like my hamster dying with its teeth taken away.. then I stimulated myself and did it but not much but this time was happy I didn't.
So, I told the teacher I forget the old assignment in Voice for the Actor I missed because it was memorizing like a little paragraph. She has another class, and I had to memorize something. I left, though. I gave her a pink, cold vase with a set of red roses and white little flowers. I got raspberry chocolates with my psych money.. She came on the stage, and I hoppped 1 step down the broad stairs. Took my shoes off later and even like walked very very slowly, like a robot, you know.. In the locker, my toes almost crossed, like an Altamonte Springs mystery, ancient thing. Like, they seemed like 1 and would twist up forever. Like a ghost story. 00 I gave out candies some. I was late to Improv(isation) in the rain, as I said. I asked the teacher stuff after class, like about singing and then why no one like hung out. I told her in Talented Theater, I stayed late to help put books away. It seemed very important. My teacher was from New Orleans. She was very attractive, and at drama club people thought I was her daughter. She was about 10 years older, 10-15, you know like 29 and I was 16. Her last name was French. I don't know if I got that mad. I did when the teacher kept fucking after I missed an assignment like a fetish or irritation. She called my future son a nigger to be safe and I ended up just storming off because it wasn't really funny.. just an itch, something that went on, she wouldn't leave me alone, when I was mad.
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