it seems i've given up the Y in exchange for chapters bookstore. i've been there three times in the last week buying books. good thing i got an irewards card.
everyday i drive past the school bus depot which is guarded by a handful of picketers. they remind me more of the kingston santa claus parade than a group of employees on strike. when i think of a picket line, i think 'billy elliott' – the UK miners strike. that's the kind of mayhem i'm looking for. not a few stragglers with wimpy signs smiling and waving as the cars drive by. maybe tomorrow i should try to cross their picket line just to see what they do. i suspect they'd try to hug me and offer me some cocoa...
it's no wonder i have a complex. i swear my own father has lost interested in calling me now that i'm actually answering the phone. i hate men! i hate them. i hate playing their games. i hate that they don't like you if you like them. i hate that you have to seem weak and pathetic because otherwise they're intimidated. i wish they'd all just grow a pair. part of me thinks i'll regret this outburst, but i don't care. i'm just so pissed off at the XY genepool, and i know it won't make any difference anyways, because for some reason they all think i'm a leper. well screw them, they're all stupid anyways. (i probably wouldn't care so much if i didn't think guys were so cool)
your head is full of fire.
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