Posts Tagged ‘rebel’
i love new york but j’tadore paris. i’ve never been there but i’m supposed to live there. i’ve said this for years. at a fair in the county of orange a palm reader told me it was meant to be. she said i was destined for a happy ending and that the soul mate i was yet to meet is friends with friends of friends. three two one degrees of separation then on and on about how i surround myself with fame plus fortune. they sing and i dance to harmonica bass ukulele bongos and tambourine all wrapped up like the present inside the world that revolves around who we’ve scene. this gypsie told me my aura was the color of burnt umber and that i would have to wait for what my third eye refused to see. i responded with patience is my only vice and i have a tendency to refuse to think twice before i end up in a position that i’m not supposed to be in. whatever worked must only work for them.
the line that strings the beads of my rosary must have been fraying for a while because they all fell off and rolled all over your hardwood floor as jeff buckley sang hallelujah. i hate that song. it reminds me of being stuck in a catholic mass dressed in my sunday best on the coldest day of the year buried someplace up in the mid-west. jesus was a cave man who rose from the dead but i think he was a magician with tricks hidden in the folds of his robe. if there wasn’t such thing as technology i couldn’t imagine how exciting it would be to see somebody walk on water then turn it into wine. wow imagine that i swear he would totally have been my best friend. wait no fuck that we could have be madly in love and i would have had no choice but to be mary magdalene’s sloppy seconds on the third day after you rose again.
its hard to accept the fact all things good and bad must come to an end. duchess replaced the duke with an english bulldog named stuart and became closer to a dream girl. maybe one day we will all come around and things will turn out the same as they were when they were normal. what the fuck am i talking about, like seriously i mean what the fuck, i must be completely in denial. please explain in god’s name who you calling normal anyway? in my opinion its all a bunch of fucking bullshit but what i believe doesn’t count for much of anything. p s don’t tell anyone i said that. i’m not the only one who’s done something wrong, we all live in this world where people get off on scandal and i know stories that would make your toes curl. the thing that sucks the most is that i would much rather be able to quit smoking than quit you but i don’t have a choice when it comes down to loyalty. unfortunately i’ve built up a tolerance. then everything begins to stress me out and a cigarette helps me look forward to some sort of relief even if its only lasts for five fucking minutes.
i was never a good girl nor was i ever a strait a student. i got b’s and c’s and was voted biggest skipper in the senior mock elections. i thought it was a joke so i didn’t even show up to the yearbook photo. my life fell apart during my last year of highschool. all my friends were older and had already graduated and left me behind to rot in the halls with all the assholes i had to sit through class with. i’d leave at lunch went to smoke blunts, eat acid or sprinkle shroom dust on pizza. maybe it had something to do with the drugs but i had the biggest attitude and i purposefully broke rules knowing that it would would suck to get caught even though most of the time i got away with it. i just didn’t give a fuck. i cheated and lied and i was the most ungrateful spoiled little shit you could ever imagine up until my baby sister grew up. i envy my parents for their forgiveness and i wish i would have listened when they tried to teach me how not to hold grudges.
the first year i tried out for cheerleading i didn’t make it and i balled my eyes out for a week. it was the end of the fucking world when i didn’t see my name on the list. i wanted to run and hide and begged my parents to let me switch schools because i couldn’t bear to face the embarrassment come the fall when we all went back to romeo high. i thought they were all gonna laugh at me and tag me as the poor little girl who can’t fly.
somewhere in between brent shuttleworth and freeman i was outside rockwood with witnesses. a lady was riding her bike in the street and got hit by most likely a drunk driver from new jersey or connecticut. the bystanders said she flew ten feet before she landed on the pavement unconscious and the crash made the most horrible noise they ever heard. they saw the car sit for a minute and then take off before the police and emt’s arrived on the scene. hit and run 101, you are more likely to get the maximum punishment for vehicular manslaughter if you split, idiot.
ironically i came back inside as freeman was finishing a song called girl who broke in two.
so i heard you’ve been introducing someone as your girlfriend. people have seen you two around acting like you’re all in love but i haven’t yet had the pleasure of running into you together. i’m sure its going to happen sooner or later and until then i’m praying i can find someone to hide behind. the thought of you with another girl makes me sick to my stomach and the thought of having to shake her hand and say pleased to meet you makes me dizzy. all i want to know is why the fuck you picked her and not me? anything she can do i can do better but you wouldn’t know that because you never even gave me another chance encounter. i am second best and i always will be because i put you all in this so called second to none category. in conclusion its not you. its me.
when i was a little girl i dreamed i could fly all the time. i did ballet because i could tour jete on stage and i was on point when i turned nine years of age. i had balance and i could jump which gave me an advantage when cheerleading try outs came around. i made the varsity competition squad and i was the only one from my grade. it was because i was small and they needed somebody to toss around. i was light enough for two girls to clasp their wrists like a basket then i would jump off of their fists as they tossed me in the air. at the peak of about twenty feet i would spread my legs to touch my toes and then cradle my body for them to catch me. there’s a mount called a liberty where you stand on the hands of two girls holding one of your feet and your other leg is bent so your foot touches your knee. the bases arms extended over their heads and i was above everyone with my arms in a v smiling and yelling go team.
its not my fault. i didn’t do it on purpose and i’m sorry. can’t you just please accept my apology. i promise it won’t happen again. i’ve learned my lesson and i can’t change what hasn’t happened. i wish i could just do it all over again. please give me another chance. i know i can prove to you that i’m worth it. just give me some credit, don’t i deserve it? just a little bit is all i ask and i know you have it. pretty please. do i have to get on knees and bow my head with my hands clasped in front of my chest? do you want me to look more fucking desperate? i’m already crying. please i’ll do anything if you’ll only just let me in. pretty please its freezing. what the fuck do you just not care that i get hypothermia and they have to amputate my toes and my nose. from now on i’m going to stay inside so that i don’t get stuck out in the fucking cold. you’re a locksmith and you have tools. what do i have to do for you so you get me in to where i live?
i can’t even admit to myself what i did.
me and my friend sarah thought we were awesome because we both had boyfriends who didn’t play football. in high school these people were commonly referred to as “burn outs”. friday nights were always game nights and one weekend my parents decided to go out of town. at practice we told our coach we were going with them and weren’t going to be cheering at the big game. they were scheduled to leave in the evening so sarah came home with me. we got ready for the game, dressed in our uniforms and curled our pony tails. we packed our bags with clothes to wear to sarah’s boyfriend’s bonfire and the bottle of absolute we got someone to buy for us at the party store. for some reason loitering always seemed to work well for me. we said goodbye to my mum and pop and pretended to go meet the rest of our team but instead we started drinking. my parents are smarter than i thought and they knew something was up. they went to the game instead of going up north and ran into our coach. she said i thought the girls were with you and they said no, they left for the game and had to drive because they missed the bus. we were so busted. both of us got kicked off the squad and our team lost.
gimme an F! gimme an A! gimme an H! gimme a Q!
what’s that spell?!?!?
[repeat over and over and over and over again]
i’m glad new york won the superbowl because tom brady is a giant asshole for getting some slut prego and leaving her for jizelle and then getting rewarded with an undefeated season…she should leave him and go back to her home on whore island. i’ve never personally gotten along with the jocks even though i was a cheerleader in high school. i just wanted to be up in the mounts and wear the short skirt. i was the one who had a cooler of alcohol in my trunk and a joint rolled for the parking lot after our team lost. senior year, me and a teammate ate shrooms at halftime of the homecoming game. by the two minute warning it hit me and my feet were stuck to the track and i couldn’t do my routine. i told my coach that my knee gave out and she asked me why i wasn’t limping. i think i forgot to and then she looked at me and asked why the whites of my eyes were violet and my pupils were so massive. i think i said make-up or something stupid. a few weeks later i was kicked off the squad for different reasons but i still hold on to the uniform. maybe i should wear it to duchess and the duke’s party on wednesday evening. note to self: do not forget your pom poms.
we got spirit yes we do we got spirit how bout you?!?!?
[insert screaming fans here]