(no subject)
it's a long story...
I'm an eigth-grade entrepreneur. I think that I'm the most awesome person in the world, with my earnings of 80 dollars per week as a paper girl. I'm rich! And I keep doing what I'm doing... the most awesome person to step foot in the mall with all the make-up and hair dye and new boots and my own pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights (because, yeah, I can't smoke anything much heavier than those). Oh, and my new D-gen CD.... gotta try to learn them on the guitar during my lessons this week. And I keep doing what I'm doing... someone's gotta pay for those guitar lessons and make-up and new clothes... so I keep on waking up every morning at 4:30 am and lugging those goddamn papers around--they feel like they weigh about a hundred pounds sometimes. Oh, and god it's so cold outside sometimes, even though I'm wearing 3 sweaters and a jacket...
I wake up this morning and I drag 3 bundles of newspapers up to my steps. There's a piece of paper on top of one of the bundles, a new delivery. I wonder where this new delivery is at... It's Lindley Drive. Oh hey, I know this address, it's the place right behind me. Must be that new guy who moved in... the dreamy guy who plays his guitar with all the blinds open... shirtless... oooh with an old Monte Carlo. I wonder if I'll ever get to drive a car like that. I can't imagine driving...
My brother Robbie talks to him sometimes and told me his name is Scott. I think they're around the same age. I'll kill my brother if he told him that I have a crush on him!
I wonder what he's like... I bet his life is awesome. He's so cute and probably has a million girlfriends... his own place... even his own car... most people have their own car, though, I guess. I want my own car.
****
Back to life.
Now I'm 22. God, I'm old. I always figured by this time I'd have so many tattoos... so many piercings... but I'm boring now. I ended up like this? I can't even imagine having to live on 80 dollars per week.
Life has become more than hanging out at the mall and taking guitar lessons. I haven't picked up a guitar in months. And to my dismay, life sometimes means losing those you love...like my best friend who died last year, and even losing a 4-year hookup who will no longer acknowledge my existence. I even got a car, but it only gets me from point A to point B. I thought cars were supposed to be fun, right? But it's not fun forking over 300 dollars per month for a car payment and car insurance.
This life thing is kinda hard.
I guess Scott thought so, too.
I want to put a newspaper on his doorstep again, but he won't be around to read it. I want to go back in time, to know him and not be so shy when my oldest and more outgoing brother calls me over to talk to him. When I pull out of my driveway, I turn the corner and drive past his place, in my car, looking inside his window for a ghost, but I do not see any. I want to see him cutting the grass again, delicately cutting around two overgrown weeds that would eventually become small trees in the side of his yard. I want to pull into my driveway and see him standing ahead of me in his yard, hanging his clothes on the clothesline. But it won't happen. If only he knew, in a neighborly kind of way, I did care. Not in a schoolgirl crush kind of way like I used to, but in a human kind of way.
In a human kind of way... people need to be affirmed. I need to tell everyone that I care about them, no matter what. Sometimes I get annoyed with people, but deep inside of my heart I care. I especially want to tell my friends, ALL of my friends, that I love them. And if they EVER need to talk, even if it's 4:30 am, they should call me because I can listen. And I always will be around to listen as long as I'm a part of this whole life thing, too.
Yeah, life is hard. But I would never give up on myself, and I will never give up on anyone else. I think we have to do this thing together.
I'm an eigth-grade entrepreneur. I think that I'm the most awesome person in the world, with my earnings of 80 dollars per week as a paper girl. I'm rich! And I keep doing what I'm doing... the most awesome person to step foot in the mall with all the make-up and hair dye and new boots and my own pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights (because, yeah, I can't smoke anything much heavier than those). Oh, and my new D-gen CD.... gotta try to learn them on the guitar during my lessons this week. And I keep doing what I'm doing... someone's gotta pay for those guitar lessons and make-up and new clothes... so I keep on waking up every morning at 4:30 am and lugging those goddamn papers around--they feel like they weigh about a hundred pounds sometimes. Oh, and god it's so cold outside sometimes, even though I'm wearing 3 sweaters and a jacket...
I wake up this morning and I drag 3 bundles of newspapers up to my steps. There's a piece of paper on top of one of the bundles, a new delivery. I wonder where this new delivery is at... It's Lindley Drive. Oh hey, I know this address, it's the place right behind me. Must be that new guy who moved in... the dreamy guy who plays his guitar with all the blinds open... shirtless... oooh with an old Monte Carlo. I wonder if I'll ever get to drive a car like that. I can't imagine driving...
My brother Robbie talks to him sometimes and told me his name is Scott. I think they're around the same age. I'll kill my brother if he told him that I have a crush on him!
I wonder what he's like... I bet his life is awesome. He's so cute and probably has a million girlfriends... his own place... even his own car... most people have their own car, though, I guess. I want my own car.
****
Back to life.
Now I'm 22. God, I'm old. I always figured by this time I'd have so many tattoos... so many piercings... but I'm boring now. I ended up like this? I can't even imagine having to live on 80 dollars per week.
Life has become more than hanging out at the mall and taking guitar lessons. I haven't picked up a guitar in months. And to my dismay, life sometimes means losing those you love...like my best friend who died last year, and even losing a 4-year hookup who will no longer acknowledge my existence. I even got a car, but it only gets me from point A to point B. I thought cars were supposed to be fun, right? But it's not fun forking over 300 dollars per month for a car payment and car insurance.
This life thing is kinda hard.
I guess Scott thought so, too.
I want to put a newspaper on his doorstep again, but he won't be around to read it. I want to go back in time, to know him and not be so shy when my oldest and more outgoing brother calls me over to talk to him. When I pull out of my driveway, I turn the corner and drive past his place, in my car, looking inside his window for a ghost, but I do not see any. I want to see him cutting the grass again, delicately cutting around two overgrown weeds that would eventually become small trees in the side of his yard. I want to pull into my driveway and see him standing ahead of me in his yard, hanging his clothes on the clothesline. But it won't happen. If only he knew, in a neighborly kind of way, I did care. Not in a schoolgirl crush kind of way like I used to, but in a human kind of way.
In a human kind of way... people need to be affirmed. I need to tell everyone that I care about them, no matter what. Sometimes I get annoyed with people, but deep inside of my heart I care. I especially want to tell my friends, ALL of my friends, that I love them. And if they EVER need to talk, even if it's 4:30 am, they should call me because I can listen. And I always will be around to listen as long as I'm a part of this whole life thing, too.
Yeah, life is hard. But I would never give up on myself, and I will never give up on anyone else. I think we have to do this thing together.