“On October third, he asked me what day it was.” “It's October third.”
Ria and I were walking down the hall, complaining about the limited characters in our essays. The sound of guitar came from the stairwell. We went inside to see Garth and Joel, sitting in the stairwell. Garth was playing a guitar. Ria looked at me and I rolled my eyes. I kept talking about the paper until I finished my sentence and Joel and Garth looked up at us. I smiled and said, “Hey, guys. What's popping?”
“Not much, how are you? How's being a wizard?” Joel asked. We wormed our way around them and I answered, “Doing well, doing well. Very wizard.”
Suddenly, Joel jumped up and said, “Oh, yesterday, I was just walking and it started raining, like down pouring. I had on a pretty nice sweater.”
“Ayeee, sweaters!” I said. He held out his fist and I fist-bumped him.
“That's awesome, dude,” I added, going down the steps, “You should've practiced using your wizard's apprentice powers to make the rain go away. Unless you like sweaters.”
“Yeah, I like sweaters.” He said, looking down at me through the bars of the railing. We both smiled and Ria and I disappeared into the hallway. We went into the Lit Loft and I sat down next to the door, opening my laptop.
“Ohh, my feelings...” I groaned.
“It's okay, I get it.” Ria said, shaking her head at me. TC opened the door and poked his head into the room, “Hey, how's it going, everybody?”
There were a couple of lukewarm 'good's and he asked people about their papers, but I wasn't listening. I could hear the guitar flowing in from the stairwell, just outside the Lit Loft. TC walked away, leaving the door propped open, and Garth and Joel walked into the hall. Garth was playing his guitar and I recognized the song.
I leaned on my elbows on the floor, appearing in the doorway, and I asked, “Is that what I think it is?”
Both of them turned around to face me, Garth still playing the guitar. He started singing and I sang with him, “Oh, love. Oh, love. Won't you rain on me to-ni-ight?”
I laughed. “I probably shouldn't be singing in the Lit Loft.”
Ria and I flopped down on the bean bag chairs and I logged into my email account. Just then, Alex came in and started talking to people. Alex is in Senior Lit and he's a total sweetheart. Ria smiled and said fondly, “He is so cute. He makes my day so much better and he doesn't even know it.”
“What, that one?” I asked, nodding in his direction.
She nodded. Alex came over and beamed at us. He stayed like that and I reached for my camera, “Do you want me to take a picture of you?”
“What? No.” Alex laughed, coming over to us. He bent down and put his hands on mine to keep me from taking my camera out of the case.
“You just pose all the time?” I teased, smiling.
“Yep.” He said. He sat down on the chair next to me. I pulled up Youtube and said, “Tanya said that I should serenade the guy I like with 'Taste You Like Yogurt.'”
“What? Is that a real song?” Ria asked.
“I think you should,” Alex said, leaning over my shoulder, “Who do you like?”
At that moment, Joel walked into the Lit Loft in his green jacket, carrying his books under one arm. I can't even explain to you how perfect he is.
“Hey,” He said, sitting down on the bean bags with us. Ria broke out laughing, but Joel didn't seem to notice. Right then, the advertisement on my Youtube window ended and the song started playing.
“This is my life.” I said. I moved to sit next to Joel, putting my head on Ria's backpack and showing him my computer. I let the video play. It's ridiculous.
“I'm that guy.” I said, pointing to a man with dreadlocks and round glasses in the video.
“I'm the girl.” Joel said, pointing to a girl in a yellow bikini. “Why are they riding a pigeon?”
“I don't know. I hate pigeons.”
“You seem like you would like pigeons.”
“I just don't. They're grotty. I don't wanna get West Nile disease.”
“But I don't like pigeons.”
Joel smirked. “You like me, don't you?”
“Yeah, I like you, but I don't like pigeons.”
“You should like this one because it's me.”
“... Okay.” I agreed. “But this is the only pigeon I like.”
Woooooooow, I tenfold hate typing on this stupid keyboard. My laptop’s dead, so I’m just using one of the computers in the school library. They’re such nice computers, it’s damn shame that the keyboards feel like they have peanut butter in between all of the keys. At least they’re clean.
I’m listening to Taylor Swift in attempt to stop being mad. Also because she’s bomb.com. Mostly the first thing. I’m not that mad, but I’m frustrated because I have an assload of homework and this keyboard sucks ass and I have to do a big writing project in Lit that is not going to be easy.
This fucking keyboard, I’m gonna flip shit.
I DON’T WANT TO WRITE MY URBAN GEOGRAPHY PAPER. I swear, that class is going to be the death of me. If we're screwing around, we eat cookie butter from Trader Joe's with plastic spoons and apple slices and talk about rape culture and racism and hot guys. If we’re on task, all we do in that class is reading agonizingly boring articles about the suburbs and write papers reflecting on them.
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, do I look like Mother Teresa? I just don’t even do some assignments… Which is stupid. I should do them all.
Motherfucker, I have an above average typing speed and your busted ass is slowing me down! Get a life, keyboard.
Ugh. Did you miss angry moody writer Senya?
I literally just want to go home and sleep, but I can’t. I have two papers to write and a bibliography to put together. God dammit. *kicks trash can*
*Sigh* Well, at least I talked to Joel a lot today. He’s perfect. I seriously can’t handle it. His buddy, Garth, was in the lunch line behind me today and I was kind of keeping to myself because he had earphones in and I don’t know him that well. Then, Joel came up, caught him in a headlock, and said, “Hey, Senya, thanks for saving me a spot in line.”
“Yeah, no problem.” I laughed. He is so cute. I can’t get over it. As we went through the lunch line, Joel asked, “Wanna sit together? I’m not going outside today ‘cause it’s raining.”
“Totally. Not in the mood for a sweater today?” I think I’ve explained our dumb inside joke about people wearing sweaters made of water. It’s ridiculous how many times we’ve brought the joke up. It doesn’t make any sense, but I love it so much.
Farting when you’re listening to music is terrifying because there’s no way to tell whether it makes a noise. I pulled one of my earbuds out of my ear and let it rip slowly. The coast is clear.
This is my fucking life, guys. This is what I do.
Sometimes, when I’m writing at school, I wonder if people are reading what I’m writing over my shoulder. Maybe I should say something really hilarious and if someone laughs, I’ll know they’re reading it… Who am I kidding, everything I say is hilarious.
I’m listening to Mindless Self Indulgence again. I love them. Shut Me Up is my favorite song of theirs. The creator of Invader Zim directed the music video for it. The guy in the video is rocking a mad middle part.
I swear, my keyboard is the only one that’s this loud.
I want a fucking doughnut. Not just any doughnut, I want one with custard in it and frosting on top. I want a Glamdoll doughnut. Fuck you.
Maybe I should just start my homework now… Nah. The Lit teacher, Sheila, would notice if I had a bunch of papers out. Then again, Nick is doing his math homework next to me right now.
AhhhhhhhhhhhhgGGGGGAHFHHHHBLEHHHHHHH
Senya, what are you doing? You screwed around at Patrick Henry because you hated it, but Perpich is awesome. Respect the space.
Alrighty, I’m going to look for stuff for my Lit project. Later, readers.
Okay, I’ve got seven resources. I have an hour left before I can go home. Why does this stink so much? I love Lit.
*Gasp*... I just realized… The library is right by the media room. Do you know who’s going to come out of the media room at the same time that I come out of the library?
Oh, gosh. I swear, half of my existence at this school is seeking him out. Whenever I'm in any sort of hallway, I wait around and wonder if I'll run into him. It doesn’t feel quite as weird and one-sided and, um, creepy as it did before because now, he comes to find me. If he sees me, he’ll come and sit next to me. He sought me out twice today. In the Lit Loft and in the lunch line.
He’s so cool. I don’t know why I can’t just appreciate him like the fellow human being he is. I have to think about all of these weird little things about him and how every one of them is so precious.
Get Lucky by Daft Punk just came on my fucking iPod. Can you not?
49 minutes. Stop counting down, Lit is fun. But it’s not fun today. I would put this all on my blog now, but I’m scared of people from school seeing the URL and finding the blog and figuring out who everyone I write about really is… I’m sure that has already happened. It’s on the freaking internet.
Also, half of this entry is on my laptop. I’ll put ‘em together later.
I wonder what Tina is listening to. It would be interesting to take all of the people in a room or on the bus who are wearing headphones and see what kind of music they were listening to.
SHUT ME UP JUST CAME ON MY IPOD I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH.
The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble, I like my coffee black JUST LIKE MY METAL!
I just want to have an Invader Zim marathon for, like, four hours. I want to watch Psycho and The Shining and other awesome horror movies with a bunch of my buddies… Including Joel. Yeah, he’s my friend! That’s awesome. I think he likes me. At least some.
I generally like myself a lot, but I get so happy when people I like show interest in me, too. It’s such a great feeling when you like someone so much and you can tell that they appreciate you as a human being. That’s not over-assuming. It’s true.
I really really really really really really really wanna go home. My eyes are really dry. I wanna eat something. I wanna see Mama and Papa. I wanna think about Joel. I would type out his actual name, but I’m at school and it would be easy for someone to pick out his real name at a glance.
I love his name. It’s such a perfect combination of letters. I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about it before. The letters form a beautiful rush of deep purples, swirling together like paint or polymer clay being twisted together in two strong hands. U of M maroon, Mama’s Purple Mountain Majesty glaze, a rich wine, a dark, pearly purple, a small dash of olive green for that jacket he wears. A lock of brown for his perfect hair and dark, happy eyes. All mixed together to form a perfect name that sounds a million times better read out loud than in print. It’s hard to keep from saying it, even just whispering it because it rolls off your tongue and sounds like fucking bells.
Hey… My heart is doing that thing again. You know that thing where you just feel like it’s going to explode, but instead of being painful, it’s just full of warm, pale yellow sunshine, peeking out through the cracks in your heart? Illuminating the red walls and making it glow like stained glass? Shining out onto hardwood floor, worn from the bare feet and old boots caked with gray, melting snow that have tread across it?
A ripple of warmth races through your whole body and you can’t quite place what it is. It’s like an infection that doesn’t hurt you, a nausea that doesn’t make you ill. It feels like anxiety if everything about it that’s bad was taken away. Your heart pounds and your face flushes and your hands shake and your lungs fill with the crisp autumn air that tastes inexplicably fresh and you feel so good and alive and for the first time in so long, you feel human. Normal. Healthy. Yourself.
It’s as though my heart is breaking in the most beautiful way possible. Layers of soft flesh delicately peeling open and resting in layers of petals like a newly blooming flower.
I’m a master at prose and he probably doesn’t know it
In the past couple weeks, he’s turned me into a poet
Just by coming 'round, showing up here and there
And when he walks past, I just can’t help but stare
His hair, that fucking hair
Dark, smooth waves that roll up and touch his face
They’re dark brown and beautiful and then I realized
Oh, no. So, that’s what this is?
I don’t just like this guy as a friend
It's so much more than that, I never write poetry
Now it's flowing out my fingertips like it's meant to be
Meant to be, I guess we probably aren't
I can feel this feeling bubbling up inside my heart
I heard a saying once that made me stop for a moment
Said that anyone who falls in love can be a poet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWwMqa-_210 - Oh Love
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wygLNFdUgtw - Taste You Like Yogurt
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0AX81gv5aM - Shut Me Up