The thing is, I could try so hard.
However,
I don't like trying hard. And in the end, no one else does either.
I'm workin on being less of a people pleaser.
..... Working.
Working.
I think I should just chill out,
and drink some tea.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
disclaimer: sorry about the lack of verb parallelism
I have been lazing about all day long. The house, nearly emptied, soaks in the sunlight, and I just finished speed-reading through a crappy novel.
Ten minutes ago, my brother started screaming loudly, from his room.
"GET OUT! QUICK GET OUT!" and then he was rampaging through the house, giddy.
I called out to him, once or twice, asking if everything was okay, but he couldn't hear me. Probably because his Xbox live friends in the background were still firing off shots. Apparently, there was a Bee in his room...
"It's fat. It's in my room" he talked through his headset, explaining his disappearance.
I never knew my brother was afraid of Bee's. Just now, smoke erupted from behind me, where the deck door is open and he is standing there with his purple t-shirt and bare-feet. He's setting off fireworks now, that explains the smoke. And the noise.
My head feels like it's ready to explode itself, and my throat burns. Not unlike a newly born Vampire. Actually, I am merely a trifle sick, and I enjoy the opportunity. The deck looks like it is on fire. My heart feels like that too, it's a nice feeling.
Nice. What a terrible adjective. Yet I fall back on this, as onto what looks like a comfortable couch... which is, in actuality, not relieving. If the left side of my brain controls the right side of my body, the left side of my brain fails to warm up my hand.
Good day!
Ten minutes ago, my brother started screaming loudly, from his room.
"GET OUT! QUICK GET OUT!" and then he was rampaging through the house, giddy.
I called out to him, once or twice, asking if everything was okay, but he couldn't hear me. Probably because his Xbox live friends in the background were still firing off shots. Apparently, there was a Bee in his room...
"It's fat. It's in my room" he talked through his headset, explaining his disappearance.
I never knew my brother was afraid of Bee's. Just now, smoke erupted from behind me, where the deck door is open and he is standing there with his purple t-shirt and bare-feet. He's setting off fireworks now, that explains the smoke. And the noise.
My head feels like it's ready to explode itself, and my throat burns. Not unlike a newly born Vampire. Actually, I am merely a trifle sick, and I enjoy the opportunity. The deck looks like it is on fire. My heart feels like that too, it's a nice feeling.
Nice. What a terrible adjective. Yet I fall back on this, as onto what looks like a comfortable couch... which is, in actuality, not relieving. If the left side of my brain controls the right side of my body, the left side of my brain fails to warm up my hand.
Good day!
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