My hair makes four months and a week today. How awesome right?
My hair is growing slowly but surely. I have encountered a problem though. On the top slightly right of my head, my hair is extremely short in a circular shape. I guess it is a bald spot, but it is really short compared to the hair around it. It is pissing me off!
This is where my hair cut last time so I am left to wonderif it is happening again. I need to start taking care of my hair better, paying attention to that spot. I am going to buy the oil I used when I first cut my hair, and I am going to brush and wash my hair less. Furthermore, I will not blow dry it for the next three months (not that I blow dried it often anyhow). I will sleep with a head wrap and I will barrets and head scarves and such ( probably not though).
My hair has grown a lot, but it could have grown a lot more if I took care of it a little better. In addition, I shouldn’t have dyed it, but I love the color!
I haven’t had anyone interested in what I have to say or what I am doing in my life in such a long time. But he is. And he asks questions, and he genuinely listens, and he is beautiful. My god, he is beautiful. I wish he wasn’t as old as he is. Or rather, I wish I was older. I really like talking to him, and we can talk about anything. I’m going to spend a week with him and other somewhat mutual friends in a juggling festival.
I don’t know him well enough to know if he looks at everyone the way I feel he looks at me. The look says, I like you. But it is subtle, a little shy yet captivating.
I can go on all day.
after falling asleep right after school.
Wants to crawl right back into bed.
I hate everything.
There is a place
with bent corners and lazy ceilings
where I belong,
not in the world with blooming flowers
and warm spring wind
and the most beautiful hue of green
and blue oceans.
I belong in air sealed rooms
with the rats
but i’m so good with anagrams that
I’d convince myself they are art.
or Tsar.
if I was in russia.
what a stupid poem.
or tumblr, or whatever. It should be the same somehow,but it hasn’t been in a while, I guess. I’m tired.I’m drained. Not physically though, but it has taken a toll though. I’ve got enough physical energy to ignite a while fucking city for a night. I’m just emotionally and mentally empty. I can’t seem to talk to anybody. I don’t have any friends. I don’t. I can’t convince myself that the people in my life are friends. They don’t care about anything but themselves. I mean, people in general just think about themselves. I mean, they should, I guess. I just have no one to really talk to. Or really trust. Or really want to talk to or trust. I don’t feel like typing anymore. over.
-Jelly.
I don’t want to, I don’t want to
cause everything time I think I get into thinking
and I can’t stop
No, this is no fucking poem
yes, it is a fucking poem
I don’t know insanity
I don’t know serenity
I don’t know anybody
I don’t know me
Will someone save me?
Will someone care enough to come save me?
Haha,
(no).
