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Hollow-Holler

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June 12, 2006 - 3:13

On the first floor I decided I would put my hair in 1 braid before I got to the 18th floor, and when I couldn't do it I was overly upset. Something's wrong. I'm not letting anything go unworried.
I want to know why it's July 12th '06, and I woke up to sheets of rain. It's fine, just not what I thought.
I resolved that nobody could actually love me; which is sort of pitiful. Probably isn't true (though you couldn't know for sure), but certainly isn't helpful. I don't know.
Sometimes it feels like people exist to spotlight one another's shortcomings. And if this is true, then I guess you're supposed to be so annoyed with how you're perceived, that you change. But sometimes you don't want to work on it. Too busy picking at the dry skin on your elbow or something. It seems like it's just because I'm lazy that I wish for somebody to treat me like I'm better than I am.
Yesterday I remembered Noah's birthday, but forgot to call him. I like that guy a lot.
My piano sounds like a whole piano now that it's been tuned. I never finished my paint by number, my legs always look battered, mysteriously.

And I'm usually hungry.