6.10

I think of all these beautiful things to tell you. and I always forget. Always.
I spend all my time doing homework, thinking about homework, eating so I can stay awake for more homework, and laying in bed "dreaming" of homework. It's more of a staring at the ceiling type dream.
I had a bad experience after making so much progress. My mind was more fearsome than I had imagined. When faced with a landscape of infinite creation my mind decides to spend its time proving what is reality and what is fiction.
I am always told I am a black n' white person. It either is or it isn't. In short, I am always told I am a bitch.
But how are things not what they are or are what they aren't? I either have a notebook or I don't. Now, I might go get a notebook. There is a 50% chance that I might go to the store and pick out the biggest and thickest notebook possible, but that doesn't mean I have 50% of a book. I still don't have the book.
If I feel sick then I am sick. I'm not kind of sick. If I am not well, I am sick.

I call this one, "I've lived in this apartment for two years. I'm an American."

I call this one, "I'd rather be murdered than do this again".

I call this one, "Spots on the nose go down to the toes".

I call this one, "If you steal this fucker, I will murder you".