i don't really have a good reason for being up this late....perhaps, yes, i was at work until 11:45, and yes, mom was watching the departed when i got home so i had to escape so it wouldn't be ruined for me, and highlighting my hair seemed a good option, and then yes, i had stuff to do on the net, but still. i could have gone to bed a little while ago. but i'm sitting here waiting for travis to text me back, so i can call him. i'll call him anyway, we know this. still. my excuses.
i highlighted my hair because i'm tired of this tri-color shaggy dog shit, and somehow looking good is important to me. a powerplay is all it is, really, because when i look good i feel good because i know people are thinking they'd like to fuck me, and the knowledge that i produce that response and am unavailable is a sweet, sadistic pleasure for me.
the masochist in me also produces a need to look good, to slavishly submit to others' desires to see me pretty, even if i would rather really not and just want to stay in my sweats today, thanks.
i wish my life were like the lives of tv people, who sit around in coffee houses and talk and seemingly never have to work but have a ton of money to play around with, and are always witty and looking good, unless it's part of a joke. i wish my dad would pay for my college. i wish there were more hours in the day, though summer here makes it close.
i sing aloud to the black parade but wonder if i'm telling the truth or lies to keep myself silent. who wants to carry on?
