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[26 Jun 2003|07:04am] |
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mood |
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 sick |
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music |
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Tom Petty- The Waiting |
] |
Wish me luck?
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| This is steven reporting. i have taken lauren's journal hostage. |
[17 Jun 2003|01:13pm] |
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not really she just wanted me to write about how she graduated today. its a big deal because she is short and short people don't always graduate. mr redmond said it couldnt be done, but mr stubbs was wrong as wrong could be. congartulations lauren.
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| cravings |
[14 Jun 2003|04:04pm] |
I neeeeeeed to get a new tattoo.
Pronto.
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| for as long as I take to come around |
[11 Jun 2003|09:37am] |
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I`m too tired to be anything but literal.
I had a little mock crack-up yesterday in the parking lot by Johns place and the furniture store. I was alone because he left me there, and I was alone because I refused any help from the kindly old man that offe red to call the police on my behalf.
My throat/eyeballs/feet/heart are still sore. Don`t contact me.
Natali- I`m still going to photo.
Natali & Jasmin- My mom cancelled this Saturday. Her reasoning, as far as I can tell, is that she can`t be bothered with anything pertaining to her daughter right now.
Yesterday was bad, but the aftertaste is much, much worse.
I let him down.…
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| for me? |
[10 Jun 2003|04:15pm] |
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mood |
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 anxious |
] |
I am Lauren Taylor
I am Lauren Taylor
I wonder why me
I hear voices in my head
I see blue paper
I want to learn to type with more than just 2 fingers
I am Lauren Taylor
I pretend that I can beat up Steven
I feel a deep pleasure
I touch the hearts of young lads everywhere
I worry that I stained the lancer
I cry over boys
I am Lauren Taylor
I understand that I’m too short for roller coasters
I say hi
I dream about marshmallows
I try to be tall
I hope that I can clone dinosaurs like in Jurassic Park
I am Lauren Taylor
By Steven Gillette
Thank you Steven, I'm honored.
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| at least you know you were taken by a pro |
[09 Jun 2003|10:46pm] |
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mood |
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 okay |
] |
Dear Haahastari Porfirio Sanchez Guillen,
I hate you.
-Lauren
P.s.: Natali and Jasmin cheered me up by driving around Placenta and calling out your name through the windows, among other things. You're lucky they're around, otherwise your supposed one-and-only might have very well expired by now.
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| build that wall. |
[09 Jun 2003|05:55pm] |
This is a cry for help.
I don't know what's wrong with me, but it isn't looking good.
I wish he'd call. I wish anybody would call. I just don't want to be here.
I walked to John's Place again. I got there, turned around, and walked back. I don't have any money, I just don't want to be here. There isn't anywhere else to go.
You'd think after 5 years of this they'd have begun to sense when things are going rotten. Instead, they'd just rather make it harder. They know what's in my head right now. They know. But they don't want to take the time to give a shit.
Please, please, please. Why do I always say I don't know what's wrong? Of course I know what's wrong, it's all that's ever wrong. Still, it doesn't make any sense and never has, so maybe that's where the confusion stems.
I don't know what to fucking do. I can't go back up to my room. Haahastari's been so proud of me, I can't let him down. I wish he'd call. I want to get as far away from here as I can.
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| from the ranks of the freaks who suspect they could never love anyone |
[09 Jun 2003|03:50pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 stressed |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Aimee Mann- Save Me |
] |
Bleck. I would have been better off without today.
Didn't go to school. Couldn't bring myself to put clothes on.
That is, until about 1 pm, when I walked down to John's Place and sulked for a couple hours over cheese-fries and Wallflowers.
Came home, and I'm trying to work, but I can't concentrate on anything other than my rusty bearings.
Haahastari is still in Brea, and I might see him this evening. Might.
Night.
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| mousey |
[08 Jun 2003|03:37pm] |
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mood |
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 mellow |
] |
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music |
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Tom & Jerry |
] |
Dude! I totally figured it out. I totally uncovered the meaning of life.
Free refills.
Where would we be without free refills? There would simply be no point in treading on.
I have a new haircut. I think it's too short, but at the same time it makes me feel like more of a boy (which is never a bad thing when femininity has already run this far astray).
I have a new backpack too. No more furry. And the added addition of zippers, which means, no more spills.
The rottweiler pup is here this weekend. We've been having fuck. We've been doing a lot of other things too, but... out of everything we've partaken in, the forn. has really been standing out. I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him. Orgasms!
You know what else I love?
Natali and Jasmin. Operation Kolar is still in the works. They are my poppy-cocks, my opium girls.
Good morning.
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| but you seem to have you`re clothes on, so... |
[06 Jun 2003|08:35am] |
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mood |
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amused |
] |
Soo... this morning I met Haahastari by the furniture store so I could see him before I left for school.
An anonymous old woman called the cops on us for having sex in public.
But we weren`t. Promise. We had our clothes on. We were sitting on the side walk. We were talking. I swear. There was some contact, but not anything that could have been considered intercourse... unless you`re a senile old woman, I guess.
“She said that for all she knew you could have been unzipped.”
She should ha ve waited until this afternoon to spy on us. It would have proven more fruitful.r
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| #14 |
[03 Jun 2003|07:35am] |
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mood |
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indescribable |
] |
"Leave me paralyzed, love."
Dying, dying, dying, dead.
P.s.:
Thank you Natali.
Thank you Jasmin.
Thank you... you. You bastard. I`ll see you this weekend.L
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| Puuuurging? I think so. |
[30 May 2003|10:39am] |
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mood |
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crappy |
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music |
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die! |
] |
Oh my fucking god!!!
Why don't you get a fucking clue?!
I am so sick and tired of sifting through your bullshit every single day.
Yet, I can't detach myself from it, because asinine as it may be, it's still too fucking hilarious to pass up.
And it makes me feel better about myself, because I know I'm not that oblivious.
God, fucking get an education. Stop screaming out of your ass; stop making so many pitiful little attempts at apathetic, intuitive, idealogical statements that everyone is already aware of anyway!! You are not a master of the liberal arts, and you never will be!
You know why?
Because you're dimwitted little bitches that have nothing better to do than write about how you think the world works. It doesn't add up, though, because you are so uneducated and narrow-minded that you think the world can be explained by way of rhetorical questions and melodramatic one-liners that usually make no sense whatsoever anyway.
Get a fucking clue. I wish you well.
Love, Lauren
P.s.: This is not directed at anyone in La Habra, or Santa Ana, or Orange, or Anaheim, or anywhere but Brea. Even then, it's only directed at a select few in Brea.
Good morning.
I didn't go to school today or yesterday because I'm too busy agonizing (constructively, of course).
Good night.
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| sick and |
[27 May 2003|08:34pm] |
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mood |
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 tired |
] |
I'm tired.
Sick and tired.
Sick and tired of... of... my newfound estrogen-induced imbecility.
Apologies to all that have suffered the backlash of my dementia.
7 months today. Puke.
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| wait! |
[26 May 2003|08:22pm] |
But hey, at least I won't be here for much longer.
KOLAR awaits.
("KOLAR" Natali, not "KOHLAR"- "KOLAR". You're going to blow the whole thing. Geez.)
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| bedtime stories |
[26 May 2003|07:59pm] |
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mood |
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uncomfortable |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The Good Life- What We Fall For When We're Already Down |
] |
And I curse my pores, and I restrain myself from setting fire to my face.
And then I think "Fire?"
And then I'm halfway content, or forcibly so, because at least I'm not like Polly. I'm no where near as far gone as Polly, and I never will be, so long as I can keep the blowtorch and myself on seperate sides of the room.
And, supposedly, no one will ever love Polly. Unless she shuttles to Orlando and takes up a career as a role-playing-rodent.
It's sad, but true. Polly is doomed.
But someone does love me, despite the battlefield that is my face. He already loves me, for who I am, which is overwhelming to say the least. This is ridiculous though, because I'm way past the figurative posterior of life (p-u-b-e-s-c-e-n-c-e). I've tried and tried and tried, but it won't leave me alone. It refuses to abandon me. It insists on staging 24-hour social gatherings all over my face.
And if anyone has any ideas, sock 'em to me.
Because in its own right, to someone that has never known what real pain and suffering is, this is really fucking disconcerting.
Enough is enough is enough.
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| are we really going to do this? (say "yes.") |
[26 May 2003|11:12am] |
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mood |
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pleased |
] |
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music |
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Tom Petty- American Girl |
] |
K.O.L.A.R. Update:
She says: Do you want me to go online and show you all of the girls that have been raped and killed in America?
I say: I'm sorry, but I refuse to live my life in a box just because a very small percent of the population decided to fuck everyone over and scare us all into believing that we are their next victim. I won't live like that.
She says: I don't want you to do this, but I won't stand in your way. If Shea has a nervous breakdown over it, I'll probably defend you. You're 18, and this isn't going to hurt our relationship, because you need to live your life and I know that.
Translation: Green light! Green light!! GREEN LIGHT!!!
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| dum-dum-dum-dee-dee-dee |
[16 May 2003|09:31am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 hungry |
] |
| [ |
music |
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fdgjfhrkfjhkrsfhre |
] |
Why do you fill me up
Buttercup, baby
Just to let me down
and mess me around
and then worst of all
you never call baby
when you say you will
But I love you still
I need you
More than anyone darling
You know that I have from the start
So fill me up,
Buttercup,
don`t break my heart.
Aaaagh. Fuhrfbrjufhfhdhdhgfhf.
^(that right there is rage.)
I`ve never seen a blind person cry, but for some reason I`m really wanting to.
Taking my assessment test with Madame Natali afterschool. Let us hope I do not fuck myself over too hard.f
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catoninetails's journal
