November 6th, 2001

alone on a swing

(no subject)

It happened AGAIN. Why is it that when people look at me, they think "ah, druggie"? This one even assumed it was cocaine (ha, like I could afford it!) rather than marijuana. Grrrr.

Over a year and a half ago, I made a donation to the Simon Wiesenthal Center (also know as the Museum of Tolerance) and since then, about once a week, they've sent me a letter/postcard/package soliciting more money from me. It's rather annoying. Now my name is also apparently on the lists for Amnesty Internation and Habitat for Humanity. These are important organizations and I'm willing to make a modest donation to their causes, but not if they keep PESTERING me!!! I don't need any more freakin' guilt!

Do you know how many wonderful wonderful neuropeptides there are?! So many! All with such pretty names! Oooooo, shiny! Poing!

Possibly the most important exam of my college career is coming up this Thursday. If I don't do well, I can pretty much kiss my funds goodbye, 'cause daddy dearest said he'd cut me off if I failed. I'm not actually worried, though. I know I can support myself without him. It just hurt that he said it.

I'm seriously thinking I'm bipolar here. One minute I'm all up and peppy, the next I'm almost crying. It's probably just stress.
  • Current Music
    "Hotel California" by SkaDaddyZ
alone on a swing

I found a pretty poem.... somewhere....

And when I say good night
The pictures in my head
Will dance around my room
And frolic in my bed
And when I say good day
They hide behind my eyes
Waiting for the dreaming
To bring them back alive

I'm pretty sure I found this one the internet somewhere, I just can't remember where, or who wrote it. Can someone help me out please?