You know? It's like tattoos. Once you get one, then you have to get another one.
(; See what I did there.
Alright.
So a few things I'm going to address in this blog.
0.) Why Erika should follow my Tumblr at work.
1.) Rant.
2.) Things in my bedroom.
3.) Why hank won't sleep with me.
3.5.) Alaska Bitches.
4.) other shit.
0.) Look we all know that you go and read my blog during your break at work. And that afterwards you delete your internet history. It's not a big deal. Everyone does it. Well, no. But that's okay. But I really think that you should add my tumblr to the other internet sites that you find yourself deleting from your history after your lunch break for many reasons. 1.) I post some really funny shit. 2.) I post some really cool fashion. 3.) Sometimes I forget to blog here and only blog there. So to keep up with me you might want to follow that too. 4.) heres the link. itsokayimasian.tumblr.com *Copy&&Paste. (:
1.) Alright. You know what? Fuck everything. Fuck the world. Fuck the cold bitter wind that is seeping through the invisible fucking cracks of my window. Fuck this darkness that settling into even the furthest crevices of marrow in my bones. Fuck this sinking feeling that is dragging me deeper and deeper into my own thoughts of existentialism and what it means to be a person and how I’m not even a single grain of a fucking human being. Fuck all of that. Fuck this shit.
Because I’m getting off of tumblr. I’m going to do something,
and I’m going to be great.
*Tumblr window is going to be left up the laptop. I’m just going to move away from the computer for a moment and actually do something. Maybe.
**probably just go put chapstick on. and then come back to tumblr&Blogging&Facebook.
2.) So I went through this giant luggage case that has been and more than likely still will be sitting in my closet and it's full of wonderful art projects taht I've done in the past both at home and at school and other institutional functions where I was told to create art. And So i'm rippin' that badboy open on a quest, because you don't just open a luggage case full of art. That's nonsense, because it's much more complicated than that. But anyways. So I'm opening it, err rippin' that badboyy oppeenn YEEEE and I see my *Journal. and I grab that mutha fuckah and I toss it on the bed** and then I grab this awesome hot air baloon painting that I did like over a year ago and I'm seeing all of these things that I have done and that i did. And this series that was up in starbucks once, and I'm just in awe of the things that I once did. And the person i once was. And i want her back. I want to be like her once more. and do the things that she did and be cool. So I am goign to .
3.) Hank Won't sleep with me. He hasn't for, well this is the second night in a row *INSERT REALLY REALLY REALLY SAD FACE HERE* And he always does this to me for a few nights after I come home late, so it's like on the weekends he won't sleep with me, but on the weeknights life is all "Hey baby gurrrrllll let's dooo this thannnggg" (*No. I do not promote bestiality. That is disgusting. But this is Hank. And he's a major sex symbol so he has to say things like this. End of story.*) And then hops up on my bed and shakes it and then stretches and shakes my bed some more and looks around and wonders "Lol. Wut da fuck. Wuz dat an Errrth Kwake?" (yeah. he speaks ebonics too.) But so tonight I'm alll Alooonnneee and lonely in my bed. Without a cat to cuddle. #mylifeissosad.
3.5) DUDE. OH MY GOD. So I was looking at my blog stats right? And It highlighsts like all of the places that your blog is popular in. And my blog is all popular and shit (Popular is a strong word. Let's rephrase and use read by) my blog is being read by people in the upper midwest.... AND ALASKA. DUDE> HOLY FUCKING BALLS> HI ALASKA. HOW ARE YOU? HOW'S RUSSIA DOING? Lol. Just kidding. But srsly, you let us know if they start to invade.
4.) Other shit. Don't remember. Don't care.
*Journal. This journal has a really interesting story. That story being a personal one. but hey you know what? I'm gonna put that shit up here cause this is my personal blog. So this journal is kind of how I "came out" to my parents/immediate family. I wasn't ready to come out to them. Not at all. I wasn't even really sure what it was that I was (*Don't worry. I know that I still dont' completely believe in sexual orientation. One (Roughly) 25% of the world population is completely either straight or gay. the rest of us, the 75% are in fact naturally Bi-sex-u-al.) but my mother was all "Whooaaa. Read. This. Shit." but to my face was all "My friend Katie thought it was her friends notebook that she left at her house." And then I'm thinking, "Dude. How the fuck did that get in her house?!?" Anyways. So then my mother cried non-stop for like a week. And I was all, in my head, "Dude. She knows." And then idk it became this hugee fuckin' issue (Mainly with other issues tied into this notebook that I absolutley do not wish to post on the internet.) but it became this huge issue and I was always crying. and my mother was always crying and Auntie was all "Biiitttchhh that don' mean youuu lurrveee herrrr." (Love you Erika.) And so yeah. So it has a lot of history.
***I'm reading it and it's makin' me tear up. And all of the holes in dates makes me really sad too.
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