my fiction beats the hell out of my truth

I cried when I saw that my entries were gone. Half of them I never even bothered to backup, because I thought when deletion was imminent, I would download the entire contents of this journal and let it die naturally.

Not so.

I wanted to wait until they were all back, but seeing as how that gets less and less likely with each passing day, I’ve caved in.

In the meantime, I had a live journal that sustained me through when the site was down. It is here for anyone bored enough to want to read it. Although pretty much all the content that isn’t completely stupid will be transferred into this entry.

Based on a true story, a oneword: reach
i walk by, wearing a low-cut tank top and more makeup than i ever have before (it was all for your benefit, love). and i’m not looking at you, not looking at you, hoping i’m not looking at you looking at me. then your arm snakes out and touches my stomach. and now you’ve got my attention.

From September 19th:

It was supposed to rain 8 inches on Saturday, but we couldn’t abandon the PSU football team, especially since we knew we had this one in the bag. Then in the morning there was sun, although the air was freezing cold. I wore a sweatshirt and a jacket.

Fast forward 4 hours later, when I walked away form the game with a sunglasses-shaped sunburn all over my face. This is the first sunburn I’ve gotten in over a year (redheads have to be careful, and so I usually am), and now my face is swollen and blistering and peeling. I look like an alien. A scary, sunburned alien with a fat face.

Dammit.

From yesterday:

i seem to have stagnated.

this used to be fun, a mere few weeks ago. i used to talk, be talked to. i used to be fun.

is it me who has changed? or is it them?

i want my summer back. i can’t deal with a whole school year of this boredom.

my writing inspiration is gone too. i haven’t been able to write a thing for weeks, except for stupid things about my sunburn (which is still here, and if possible, uglier) and… that’s all. i guess once you don’t care about things or people anymore, you really don’t care about anything.

(I am, by the way, aware that this is all terrible. Someday- hopefully soon- I will be able to talk more about this in the detail it deserves. And maybe my writing will stop being so flat and ugly so I can actually stand to post whatever I write. And next time, I also promise color.)

Love.