Sunday, January 13, 2013
Problem
I'm trying to concentrate in private and have homework in theater and may have a hard time hobbling around school printing it out.. I also have to involve another person! I would never do that. Anyway, people are like bothering me in private sending me suggestive messages, really, and it seems to sorta make me tired. Like, the technology does funny things, and people are interested. It's true, though I know it doesn't seem like it.
Problem
I'm getting more bs that kids want me to prove that if I were in their shoes I'd get mad and blame someone for something in real life even if I found out ... "they didn't 'do it.'"
Wow, Ginny Kopf, is this what you do on the weekend? How am I supposed to do your homework if I broke my ankle?
Wow, Ginny Kopf, is this what you do on the weekend? How am I supposed to do your homework if I broke my ankle?
Problem
So, what, are these annoying whiny insults coming from Ginny Kopf talking to my parents or is it someone else?
Problem
Yesterday, when I got back the 1st time, there was a fat lady with a skinny head in front, fluffy dyed hair. She was tilting her head sarcastically because I don't think I should tell people I missed "Supercalifragilisticexpalidocious." You know, every time. I could hear it loud and clear from the stalls. It had just ended, so I saw them lined up. I was annoyed because there's no way I could sit there and not have an insulting thought come to my mind hit hard. It's just what happens. I really don't want to do that, remember??? So, she tilted her head and made me think of my mom's nose being stupidly smooth like a slide like a triangle! Oh no, that's not okay. I be that thought is floating above her head. And then, her neck popped and I think it still freaks my mom out. I felt my mom doing something with her nose, too, and I'm not sure what happened now. It doesn't seem okay, to me. The problem is she's so sorry for other people and thinks you should make a big deal out of stuff like this, when it's not really what you're supposed to pay attention to. I don't want to say this every time much less have to remember nor that I will. I won't. I mean, that's that. You won't say it every time you list what plays or musicals you've seen.
At the Show, Yesterday
Actually, the 1st time I got up was to put water in my left eye after "Feed the Birds." I thought it would be good if I were in that section. When we clapped, for some reason I clapped louder when she came out.
My Hurt
It doesn't hurt, but I can't stand on 2 feet. It bends much better. I had a nice, light Chinese food and slept for like 6 and 14 hours. I was planning on sleeping, anyway, but this is good. At least, I don't feel as agitated about that theater segment.
Problem
All my problems are that people are being mean to me like killing me and boring in hatred for what other bad kids suffered as unforgivingness from older people, and these people are not suffering for it. Them being shitty does not equal mistreatment, anyone knows.
Dreams
It's hard to remember my 1st dream. Oh, yes, I thought my old choir director, Mrs. Campo, was murdered. It was my fault, somehow, I guess because I'm indian. So, I found her, and she was carrying me quite a lot with my hurt ankle. It was interesting how I connected. Before, Ellen DeGeneres was carrying me with my hurt ankle and I was thinking about being rubbed. There was another dream where I was trying to **********. My dad's youngest sister and little girl cousin, the aunt told me to be more comfortable in the bathroom. When I went in the bathtub, I looked from behind the curtains and the light was on and she had come in then left. The next dream, I was on a long long walking bridge, strong, like a dream. I remember there were 3 boys, 1 maybe his name started with a Z. 1 was Tim Burton's son. I talked to him, and he was really nice and cute. He was small with dark hair. I was with several adults. I know Helena Bonham Carter was there, and she was taller than me by several inches and more rotund and healthy. I got up thinking I wanted to put how her round, chubby daughter squaked as she picked her up. After awhile, I said she was the most European person here and went up to her and maybe or probably started to put my arm around her. I guess she was putting her arm around me and stuff for a long time, with my hurt ankle, which isn't really hurt now, and in different ways. For some reason, I was thinking of old movies like Singing in the Rain or An American in Paris, which I thought of seeing Mary Poppins yesterday. Eventually, she picked me up because of my ankle, for a long time. I made a strong connection with her dad being all English and then with the rest of her race being Spanish and Jewish. I'm not sure what was most memorable. I guess my hurt ankle and seeing her as most European. I did see maybe an all English blonde with slick hair, and I guess for some reason it didn't matter to me. *** So, I guess you can imagine how it was. I don't remember all the details. I guess I felt kinda knocked out a bit but nothing really bad, like I went in and wasn't afraid to process things. Before, I think I felt a bit worn and unable to experience. This time, I was kinda not fully developed, still. When I was looking to see if she was murdered, it was very depressing and something I had to accept. I was worried that it had to do with me not stopping it and causing it. It was sorta a dark, trashy, more sharp slum area, more orangey and like with slits of other things. The bridge was big, like an old dream, and weighted down, quite a lot, though it didn't seem to affect me as much as it could, like I was dead in a way partly. It was a thick bridge. We were sitting on the side. There were like maybe 3 wires and a window with cement on the outside. It was very strong, like a building or street, very thick, seemed so stable but uh-oh not really invincible. So, Helena Bonham Carter was wearing a dress, which was maybe was like brownish with certain colors like orange or blue or green. So, Helena Bonham Carter was saying "David" because her dad is all English a few times. Also, I went in the bathroom to lock the door. I can't even close my garage door because of a chord in the way. I guess with the choir director we were down in a low area that was kinda yellowy-orangey-maybe gray. I had told someone about a Cathedral that seemed good but not the best, you know 1 of 3.
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