Where is he? I haven’t seen him since Sunday afternoon…
He promised to send me an sms Monday night, but there was nothing. I haven’t heard anything at all from him. Nothing. For the past two days!!! Yes, I am freaking out here. What if something happened to him? How the freak will I know? Where on earth is he….f.asfdsdfj
I hope he’s safe. I hope he’s okay. No replies to any of my smses or emails. I am so incredibly worried. And you have no idea how much energy it takes me to dredge up the emotions to be worried. I only hope he’s okay. Whatever else I can deal with. As long as nothing has happened to him.
Damn pms. I’m okay atm, but I was pretty crap on Sunday. Cramps atm, but they’re way better than Sunday. But, of course, you weren’t really interested in any of this, were you? Oh well. Deal.
Maybe he’ll come online soon. I’m not even going to have a bath, just in case he comes online. I’ll bath tomorrow. I have off, so I can study Bio. Argh.
I am just writing down a whole page full of random, scattered thoughts. Welcome to my mind. This is how it works around here. And this is the filtered, censored, slowed down, sorted out version.
I’m eating an apple, atm. Simply because.
Franticness. Franticness. Franticness.
I am missing him desperately. And trying my very best to convince my freaking self-conscious to shut up and leave the self defense switch alone.
I’ll be fine. And he is fine. We’ll talk tonight… *deep breath*
Almost three hundred words already. And I’m typing up nothing but a load of nonsense. Oh joy.
I just adore poetic license. That’s the only reason I write. Well, that and the metaphors and the rythm.
Three hundred and ten. Now.
The chemistry today was the best I’ve writte so far. And, please note, it was not easy. It was not a breeze. I have no guaruntee at all regarding what I’ll get, that was freaking thumb-sucking a lot of the time. (she didn’t teach us the stuff or else she didn’t tell us to study it). But that’s okay, because I actually thought today instead of sitting and fixing the teacher’s spelling mistakes. But I don’t think I’ll do it again all the same. It’s a tad risky. But whatever.
*sighs*
It’s almost Astrid’s birthday. In exactly one week and six days (as she makes sure to remind us).
I miss him.
I found this brilliant poet on Deviant Art. Estallidos. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. And she replied to one of my comments. Yay. (take a wild guess what type of yay that was. But I really am glad she talked to me. She has this totally different, unique style that I simply adore. She is totally my favourite poet atm). Look up her poem “Terracotta” if you have time. Maybe. If you even exist.
*deep breath*
*sigh*
I wrote this poem for sleeping’s poetry prompt. It’s based on my Belgian friend. She replied to me, btw. And I am so freaking relieved because, last time I talked to her, she was very seriously considering suicide. That really did make my day yesterday. *half-smile* I could post the poem for you if you like.
And Some Day, You’ll Fly
Black-blue tendrils
Of shadow
Steal across your face
Dark eyes
Reflecting
The sky’s endless white lace
In one hand
A cigarette
Deep breath: in, out, in, out
Grey ring
Of unwashed silver
Escapes from your mouth
Lips singing
- always singing -
To some or other song
One foot,
Fluorescent green toenails,
Quietly tapping along
But past the sooty lashes
That frame those mirrored eyes
There aren’t bloodied chains
Or scars or ropes or knives
I can softly slip in
And look through your-colour glasses
I’ll hold you and be with you
Until this cloud-stealing storm passes
Because when I look at you
I see shining blue eyes
Blond wisps teasing in the breeze
Fingertips reaching for the skies
And to me,
You don’t wear black
You wear those lacey clouds
And two glass-slipper wings on your back
**I was planning on using a completely different topic for this poem but, the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t get this idea out of my mind. I know this beautiful, sweet girl. The two of us are like sisters and, although we have very little contact, it’s like we still understand each other like practically no-one else does. And she used to love clouds so much. And flying. And stars. And I just couldn’t get her out of my mind. So, although this poem is pretty different to the other entries (lol), here it is anyway. Btw, glass-slipper: the perfect fit.**
Directly from what I sent her. Including the little asterixes at the bottom.
I don’t want to pepper him with hundreds of emails. He hates it when I worry and I don’t want to bother him. He’s probably fine and I’m just overreacting. Yes. Probably. *deep breath*
I have written him about ten emails (inside my head) already. I have sent him one. The one with the above poem in it.
Restless. Damn cramps. I hope he’s okay.
Okay, I’m going to go before I write nine hundred words filled with just random thoughts and whining.
899 words. Made it. Bye.
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