Nonspecific

It would suck to wake up one day and find out that some one other than Lola has been reading this blog for the past year. Oh, and Melli and The Wizardress too. It would seriously mess with my life, to find out that I've been screaming all this s***, thinking I was releasing stress into the open air and with those that I love. I'm not even entirely sure how I'd react if that happened, I guess it would depend who. I just have this horrible feeling that some one's been checking up on my emotional state and I have no clue about it. That's what I get for putting this on the Internet! But since when is paranoia a new thing for me? Shoot, I just missed 11:11. I wish on every 11:11, just so you know. It's one of those things I believe in. Sorta. Kinda. Hey! So this is actually how I think, and talk, when I'm not being all official on my blog. My blog is just about the last place where I use correct spelling and grammar and etc. And I also usually use big words and concepts, which are actually what I think about... it just sounds really official? I guess? I can't come up with the right word...

So. Now that I'm almost done with this post, I need to give it a title. It's kind of random. But that's not the right word for it. Thank Spirit for thesaurus. Nonspecific. This post is nonspecific. But I find it so interesting that I'm not making a big deal about the future, the past, regret, love or adolescence, that I'm actually going to publish this!

Hey

Hey. Wats up. Nothing much, just contemplating every word I hear. Yeah. That's cool. I hear you are constantly confused. That's right. It sucks. Be right back. I'm back, lets talk. About what? Anything. Who are you mad at? You. As usual. Not true! So true. At who? Either one of you; the world. You make no sense. That's okay. Okay? It's great. You realize this is a dream anyway? I get it! Me too! Congrats. Ditto. 8:37pm.

FICTION.

Girl

And so the girl was scared. She wasn't so sure how she'd landed where she was, alone in the dark on the south side of Pinehurst. Neither was she quite optimistic about her situation from that point forward. Come on now, this was her hood. She'd grown up there. She flipped back her hair, which was a mess, tangled around her ears, just above her shoulders. From her peripheral vision she could see wisps of it pointing every which way, and some strands were stuck to her tear-stricken face. Not a good look, thought she as the expansive block before her grew shorter and shorter. If only she could find a sign, a bodega, get over onto Broadway. Though it was dangerous to be roaming on a Friday night, if she could find Broadway, she could get home. Come on now, this was her hood. As her clogs tapped on the uneven pavement, some car was playing hip hop, far off. She imagined the sound becoming closer, and quickened her pace towards it. She'd grown up here. It was all fine. The hip hop did grow louder, which made her heart pound, and her cheap hoops in her ear clang high-pitched. Headlights scared her off the road. Startled the girl. But as it would be, that SUV and the lights that threw her off 171st, threw her right in front of a taxi, on 172nd.

Monkeys

Then I saw little monkeys and they were swinging from the bookshelves that towered above us. I didn't like the bookshelves - they scared me. But I liked the monkeys, who were grinning at me and then they began to chant:

"Never believe the liar when he's telling you the truth, nor the pessimist with good news. If a girl is frowning next to a happy one, then run because something is wrong. Never let the purple paint ever talk to the pink, because contrary to common belief, the daffodils do think. If I made any sense, I would be eternally glad, but if I made all sense, it would be bad. Only half of us make sense, or only half of what we say. Pick any half you'd like, and go on with your day."

I looked up at the monkeys. 

"Duh,"              

Huh?

I was talking to a family of trees. They were melting and orange. The hairbrush disagreed with them on the subject snow so they started a war. I believe Kutchipatchi was there too. He fought with the trees and Keyboard strongly supported Hairbrush. They lived together in the land of Shelf. Oh, but the warriors! Fighting for Hairbrush and Keyboard were the dust bunnies and gum wrappers. The warriors of Kutchipatchi and the family of orange melting trees were naturally potato bugs and ants. In the end the ants overpowered the gum wrappers, but many a potato bug were lost. Then the ipod told the washing machine to close his mouth.