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the Underground

Friday, February 11, 2000 7:59 PM

Went to the Underground last night. Did not eat much though, the food is usually awful and at best mediocre. Usually go there b/c nowhere better to go on campus, but even then, they have had hair in the food couple of times
But now I’ve seen something there that I actually like and must have. Like a cute stuffed animal or a beanie baby. Reminds me of the 30$ frog I wanted when I went to high school. This doll of oversized green, with its croaking voice and brown glassy eyes was my obsession for an entire year before my mom bought it for me athat christmass. High school…seems like I should have been old enough not to want a stuffed doll, but in my years of pimples and awkward conversations of sex and lipstick with the girls of the week, it was the only constant I could depend on to be there next week. The only thing whose voice made me laughs. Something I was not familiar with in those days of rejected crushes
And so, I would go and visit this doll daily, on my weird excursions to the mall
And now I’ve found another at the underground, with his hat and brown eyes. Something cute I covet and want. but dare not have, for then it is reality, and in reality, the frog is no more than a boy with reasonably sized pants. and at best he'd ending up sitting by my bed like those before him. useless and lonely, staring at me longlinlgy
tonight at the underground, a Mohawk boy calls me a princess. And I know he wants me, he wants his ideal bitch, he wants this woman who looks nauseated at the sight of him. He likes the wrinkle of the nose, the dainty picking of the cheese, the flipping of the hair and the scowl of the eyes. and i hate him
i smile and take a picture

+ نوشته شده در  چهارشنبه بیست و یکم بهمن 1383ساعت 0:0  توسط ستاره  | 

writer's block

Well its official, I’m a huge procrastinator. Why do I do this I don’t know? It seems that lately I’ve been doing everything to distract myself from school work. I like writing so why don’t I write, b/c there is no inspiration, no tick no boiling of the blood upon reading new material. No outrage, no anger, no angst no nothing. I’m simply bored. Material has become redundant; I’m convinced I’m reading the recycled version of whatever bullshit I was fed during my first and second year. It’s actually hard to understand how dedicated I was then, now its fading. All a distant memory

I used to be health nut too, all obsessive behaviour seem to occur at the same time, and just like your body changes when working out after a while, so does your mind. The softening of the muscles that were once hard, the blurring of the corners that were once sharp

My perfect self is a distant memory, an image I aspire to become once again

Came to school again, have been feeling a weird groove lately, not a good one. One of those: “why isn’t this shit ending” grooves. Been watching too many Persian movies, because I’m feeling homesick for the homeland. That’s weird b/c in reality I firkin hate the homeland. Its done nothing to me but screw me up mentally, guilt trip after guilt trip. And now I’m stuck, devoid of a solid morality and culture I’m lost as to the proper actions I should take. My self so many pieces, fighting at the same time for a hold of my limbs and my brain and nobody wins, inspite of me. The feminist is yelling go ahead, do onto them as they’ve done to you, and the Iranian is saying, resign my sister resign. One part whore one part prude, all is nothing

And so I sit at this computer trying to come up with an excuse for not writing the term paper

+ نوشته شده در  سه شنبه بیستم بهمن 1383ساعت 11:2  توسط ستاره  |