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My "typical" day. | A voice from beyond the grave, don't you know?
Nov 16, 2001, 06:31 PM,
#1
My "typical" day. | A voice from beyond the grave, don't you know?
Sometimes in the early morning, when you first open your eyes, the room seems to be painted in green shadows, veiled with an apprehensive feeling. Many days I wake up lying in the bathroom, or in the bathtub. I seem to have a rather odd illness that keeps me sick continuously, though the many doctors that I've seen would argue against that. They can't see it beneath their microscopes and in their test tubes, and so it's not there. Some mornings I don't go to school because I can't stand up, or I can't get out of bed. Those mornings it seems as if the day won't ever end and I'll be stuck in this terrible moment, lying on the bathroom floor or in bed, cloaked in green shadows.  As of lately I've just "sucked it up" as my brother used to always tell me to do. I'm sure most of the teachers at school would think I'm either skipping school or playing sick, it'd be nice if I were, if I could. Of course it doesn't matter anyhow, everyone is dying. Some people just have expiration dates, right? Not to say I have one, but everyone looks at death so grimly. Although, it kind of is, you know?
I usually wake up sometime before seven, and if I can, I take a shower to try to wake up or loosen up my muscles, something doctors have told me to do. I rarely ever put on make-up in the mornings. I ever rarely put on make-up. I have this thing against make-up, among other things, because so many people abuse it. It's meant to be applied liberally which does not, I repeat DOES NOT, mean to apply it with a large paintbrush only to be scraped off later with a mixture of soap and paint thinner. Though there are those times when you feel the sudden urge to be daring, or ridiculous (whichever you prefer) and bring on the clown make-up. This being a practice I don't participate in much, of course. Make-up to me is just about like everything else. (Ex: religion, drugs, alcohol, sex) If you use it too much it becomes a part of you, and you've lost the original idea. Although, my strong aversion to make-up could also be due to my love of sleep which prevents having time to ever put any on. But no really, make-up is evil.
I live with my mother at the moment, though I don't know how long this'll last. I seem to have this habit of hopping merrily from home to home. Mum seems to be the last place I can go to right now, so I try to get along with her. Don't get me wrong, I love the woman, but I despise her just as well. I despise her ignorance, her naivety, her disgustingly optimistic facade....it drives me mad some days. Whenever we're driving my eyes always seem to fall downwards as we drive along the highway. It reminds me of the first and third Sundays when we used to make the long drive to see my brother in northern Mississippi. After we saw him we always had to board a bus back to the parking lot. On the bus ride back to our car, I always watched the drowned fields as we passed by. After I had to let go, it always seemed so terrible outside without him. The fields were always drowned in what seemed like sorrow, even should it be that the sun was out and the temperature was exceeding upwards into the 100's. A lot of times when I'm in a car somewhere, I can close my eyes and still see the impression of the fields and the never ending tree lines. I miss the days I used to be able to spend with my brother, and the times I used to have with mum. A lot of times I look at her and wish that I was still younger, and I still thought the world of her. I miss the person she used to be; I miss the person I used to be.
One of our morning rituals is to stop at the convenience store near the high school, for me to get some chocolate milk and maybe a biscuit. The only things that I can drink are chocolate milk, milk and Sunkist. Anything else makes me terribly sick to my stomach. I also can't brush my teeth in the morning either, because even the toothpaste makes me ill. Another thing I have against make-up is the smell of it, it also makes me sick. I can't smell or taste things usually. Anything that smells strong enough for me to smell, will usually make me sick somehow.
By the time we finally get to school (even the speed bumps make me ill) it's between seven thirty and seven forty-five, so I can go talk to Cody and Necole. I adore them both, and they're sometimes the only reasons I come to school-despite the part where I'm kind of ordered by the state, but it doesn't matter! The four of us, four when you count Matt, usually end up having some of the...oddest conversations. We all share similar beliefs for the most part and a similar view of life. As of lately, I've gritted my teeth a lot because of Necole. She's dating a guy named Zach that I'd been "talking" to for some time before they hooked up. Even though I spend more time with him then she does, it doesn't matter. I'm also pretty angry with myself that I could be jealous over something, and jealous enough to not talk to Necole. But, I really don't have a family and so my friends are all I have. I regard them with such respect, and protect them with ferocity. I couldn't believe she didn't talk to me about the ordeal with him before she "asked him out." This being another practice I despise.
My first block class, as you would know, is Drama. Another reason I come to school some days. The lack of talent is as funny as it is pathetic, though the arrogance some people have because of their "acting abilities" annoys me some days. Let us not mention any names of very socially-rounded people. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jealous of anyone, it just annoys me when people are so proud. I'm happy you're black or gay or a starving artist; more power to you. I don't have anything against anyone, in the exception of ignorance. People who flaunt their ignorance absolutely disgust me. People who also claim to be the 'oppressed people' annoy me as well. I used to volunteer in homeless shelters and institutions for the mentally and physically handicapped along with many other various organizations that actually help oppressed people. I don't like people who whine, you know, the "Woe is me" people. They're everywhere. People think I'm anti-social sometimes, it's only because I don't really like them. I'm sincerely one of the most outgoing, bold, loud people you'll ever meet if you catch me when I'm not a prisoner at Gulf Shores Reformatory for the Socially-Rounded.
My next class would be Technology, a class I would obviously adore should it not be for Mrs. I'm Proud I'm a Southern American Religious Person. Not that I have anything against her, she merely annoys me. But at least I don't mention any names. This might also be another person that scrapes it off at night with the paint thinner. I'll be proud of my old age one day, days which I look forward to. You can act stupid, not ignoran, and do stupid things, say stupid things and people will just dismiss you as senile. If you do them when you're younger, some person like me might come along and wince, THEN dismiss you as ignorant. But only if it's before noon and my day is still somewhere back in bed where I would rather be. In this class somewhere I retreat to the internet to talk to Ile, who I love dearly.
At the time he's in Kotka, which is in southern Finland. He's opened my eyes to so much around me, and I've done the same for him but at a much greater scale. Some days I wish I could see things through his eyes, and experience things through his fingertips. Sadly enough I won't be able to see him for some time.
I miss him a lot.
Another one of my 'things' is that I become attached to people I open up to- quick. Stephanie knows me more than anyone, and Necole listens to everything I say. Cody loves me for who I am, and Zach is someone I have to call a weenie. But Ile...
I'm still somewhere in northern Mississippi with my brother, and at home with Zane. I'm over in the UK with Richard and Victoria as they exchange precious words that people here abuse, and in Glasgow with my sweet Buggy who can't stop muddying the waters of his life. I open up so much for my friends, and I don't think they ever really realize it.  I stayed in Texas with Al after I left. I stayed in New Jersey with Danny when I had to go home. I stayed behind, six feet under, when the only people I'd ever grown to love left me one by one. My friends...are everything to me, and this comes through in my writing, in my art, in my poetry, in my music, in everything I do. Because of this I have high expectations and when they can't be met I fall hard, and my scrapes and wounds don't heal quickly. I try to be a forgiving person, but in the past it never got me anywhere that much. During second block, this is all I think about. Throughout my day, these are my thoughts.
Whenever I finally have to go to my third block class, Algebra, I'm usually tired and I keep looking at the clock. I always feel sick, and there's something about noon that makes me feel even sicker. In Algebra class I usually read, but I sleep a lot. I feel terrible about it most of the time and I try really hard to stay awake, but there's something terribly boring about that class and soon my attention is directed towards the back of my eyelids. I'm currently struggling in that class to keep a low C, which is a new experience for me. Never before in my life have I ever had to struggle for anything, academic wise anyhow. And suddenly, I'm not getting things and it's really making me angry that I'm not. I have to do all the homework now because my test grades won't keep me afloat. I have to do as much extra credit as I can because my homework and my test grades won't keep me afloat. I have to pay attention because if I don't I won't be able to stay afloat, and this being the year before I apply for admittance to the Alabama School of Mathematics and Science, where everything is on a college level. So at the time, I'm struggling in that class and it is indeed a new experience.
At last, is my retreat to lunch to sit with the gaggle once again. I remember when I first transferred to GSRSR I used to sit at the table across the aisle and watch them, wanting to sit there. But I was still scoping the place out, and so I didn't for sometime. I think it was after the church group I sat with starting singing country music on a regular basis that I finally decided enough scoping. Don't get me wrong, religion is fine for some people, but then again so is a kick in the head. Not to confuse the two.
I remember when Rosado yelled at me for my shoe laces...my shoe laces! It didn't matter that my entire shoes were white and that the people around me had shoes not even within a mile of dress code, but simply that my shoe laces were navy blue. It's such a hypocrisy here at GSRSR, but the entire world is a hypocrisy and you'll never get anywhere if it's all you think about. People confuse me a lot with many other pessimists, but I beg to differ. I'm simply Kristen, no subtitles please.
In fourth block I usually take out my practice of sleeping with my eyes open, which I've stopped on quite a few occasions seeing as where my eyes tend to roll back in my head while I'm doing this. I've read the entire Literature book and can't  believe that I'm in a CP class. As of lately, my teacher has been in the hospital and each day I've retreated somehow to the library to talk to Necole. Cody usually comes in a few minutes before the bells rings and we talk. Before we stole her grandmother's car, her grandmother usually wouldn't mind taking us home. Of course that was before we stole the car. Now I have to either ride the bus or find another ride home, because Necole's dad also decided that he didn't want to take me home either. My bus is full of screaming children, screaming SMALL children. I also have a thing against small children most of the time, I don't ever remember being that immature when I was that age, though I am now.
Whenever I get home I'm not sure what I do. I don't watch television either, another one of my "againsts" but I listen to a lot of music. And I sleep. I like to sleep. For the past few weeks I haven't been coming home in the afternoon, but rather staying out spending time with Cody. I like spending time with Cody. She has a certain innocence about her. She's crazy, but a naive kind of crazy. She doesn't have any inhibitions because she doesn't need them...yet. I don't like to talk on the phone a lot either, but I do if there's anything to be said. I spend a lot of time with my dogs, Andy and Rusty, and my cat, Bernie. I also spend a lot of time writing and painting. Somewhere in there I fall asleep, only to start another day cloaked in green shadows.





(Edited by Fallen at 10:18 am on Nov. 19, 2001)

"Any government that would deny a gay man the right to bridal registry is a fascist state."
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Nov 16, 2001, 10:40 PM,
#2
My "typical" day. | A voice from beyond the grave, don't you know?
Every time I decide this board is dead somebody comes up with a brilliant, beautiful, heart-trembling piece like this.

Thank you, Fallen.

If you can't beat them, eat them.
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Nov 25, 2001, 10:14 PM,
#3
My "typical" day. | A voice from beyond the grave, don't you know?
Yeah. Fallen tends to do those. Smile

I still remember the first time I read something from you, Kris...

"What did the city get from you, Montag?"
"Ashes"
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