the imperfect perfectionist

*me *
Yanee
05/01
On my stereo: Justin Timberlake's Summer Love
Mood: Erratic

"Aye"
indie rock, alternative, pop rock: smiles: hugs and kisses: soccer: chocolates: Nike: teddy bears: touch rugby: babies: rock-climbing and bouldering: soft and pantene-smelling hair: my well-worn Levi's: Adidas: white, blue: short nice hair: Elmo, Oscar the Grouch and Cookie Monster:

"Nay"
veggies: swallowing pills: high heels: skirts: not knowing what to do: mess:

*wishlist *

a bit more freedom
PSP
new laptop
more clothes, for goodness sake!
new phone
an orange scrambler
makeover my room

Monday, March 27, 2006

It's abt an hour or so when i tried calling you tonyt.

I held the phone hard, trembling.

My heart beats fast.

I don't know why.

Was i scared?

Was i too damn scared?

Maybe i was.

Afraid of rejection.

Just like i told you yesterday night.

Hah.

Just how ironic when i said those very words, you rejected my call tonight.

You wanna noe how it feels?

Ok.

It feels a bit lyk how you would feel when you call your other significant and she rejects the call.
She knows you're calling but just rejects. You sit, fuming at her audacity of rejecting it. A nanosecond later, you feel lyk s*** cuz you know she doesn't want to talk to you. You sit, crying.

That's about how it feels. Just about. Not fully.

I'm tired.

Tired of all the trying and crying.

Tired of all the rejections and anger i'm feeling.

Tired of being alive.

Tired of just being tired.

Just tired.

Goodnight.

I've updated.

So much more to spill.

It's not enuff here.

-----------------------------------------------------------
<~ perfected ~>
@ |2:19 PM|

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