(Wall painting by street artist Blu. Found in Berlin, Germany, 2007.)
The more I see of moneyed
classes, the more I understand
the guillotine - George
Bernard Shaw
Happy Tuesday, my lovely readers. 4 comments yesterday. Phwoar. If only that was every day. Hint hint. Nudge nudge. Owch, my tongue hurts. I think I pulled a muscle in it. Don't get to say that too often. 'Why isn't your homework done?' 'I pulled a muscle in my tongue...' 'WTF? That's not an excuse?!'
Don't cha just love crazy ass teachers. Back pain has decided to invite hip, rib and shoulder to the party. The joy of movement my front bum. There are plenty of things that could be worse though. So I'mma duck tape my mouth and quit complaining. Interesting English class with sad poetry. I love English. Officially my favouurite subject. Not for the sad poetry, because that sounds emo as fuckaduck. But because it's the most interesting topic in Hell AKA School. Not much happened to day. Couldn't concentrate... my mind was wandering to things that weren't work. I have these two friends; One incredibly sensible, the other a bad influence (she isn't really but that's what the sensible one calls her). And they both have completely different ideas on what I should do in the situation I'm in. And then my other friends have even more different ideas. And my head is saying another theory entirely but, like, something's tugging against my head with a different answer. Like a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me not to do what's best... telling me to get hurt and enjoy it. I dunno. Maybe it's my inner Gene Simmons. Or my inner Pete Wentz. Whichever toots your flute. Oo-er.
We were doing reproduction in Science and our teacher decided to go all I'm-A-Motherly-Figure-As-Well-As-A-Teacher-To-You-Guys and gave us that sex speech on how you shouldn't fuck 'til you're actually like 30 or something. She's all like 'emotional baggage'. I do understand where she's coming from, I really do, but I couldn't help but wonder when the right time is to have sex. I have criteria for myself anyway. Being with someone I adore for at least a month. Not giving in to pressure. Plenty of protection. Wait until I'm at least 15, for God's sake. I know, I know, it's illegal under 17. But slowly and surely, the virgin rate of my year is dropping. I mean, there are at least 5 girls who've done it... and it's only the start of the year. Here's to bet that there'll be 3 more after Halloween, more after New Years and no more virgins by the start of the next school year. I'm worried that I'll be the last virgin. I don't feel ready for sex. Sure, there's plenty of inquisitive thoughts in my head, and plain damn hormones racing. But... what if I get knocked up or something? I dunno. All I know is that I don't trust my virginity with any of the boys I kn0w at current and that I'm waiting for at least until May.
I might start yoga. Anyone do yoga who reads my blog? C-box me some shit. Actually, c-box me if you do yoga or not. Commenting doesn't take effort; The box is right under the music box. See where it has all those names and messages from lovely caring readers? That's where I want you guys to write. If you want, ya know. LMAO. World War 1 is kinda weird. GRR said Amewica. Grr said France and Engalannd and Germanyy. GRR. Let's all go to war and pick sides. Yaaay. And then some random day we can play football on no man's land for the sake of it. Even though we hate eachother. Which is me like going shopping with the devil incarnate... *cough* Begins with 'S' *cough* Ends with 'Abrina' *cough*. All that coughing, must have caught something. Hehe. Paramore are coming. Yaaay. Wanna bribe my parents into letting me go. I need €40.
Life is still so damn boring. Innocuously boring though, I do enough to stop suicidal urges. XD
Well, I'll post again tomorrow.
LUCY XOXO
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