Hat: Urban Outfitters. Top: H&M. Shorts: GoJane. Tights: H&M. Boots: Urban Outfitters.
Dear world...
Why don't I seem to give a fuck anymore? It's almost as if I have become more apathetic by the day. I mean, maybe it's because I'm anxious for the next chapter to begin in my life and I'm so fucking tired of J-school (journalism school for those who actually studied something real) and I'm disillusioned from being a journalist. If I ever hear the term "nut graf" one more fucking time, I swear...by the way, this will not change the title of my blog. Why? Because I am waaaay too lazy to rename it.
Typically, I get out of bed. I stare at the clock. I can sleep for five more minutes, I tell myself. I then lazily do the reading for some shit I should have read the night before. I sit in bed, smelly and ugly, go find some random shit to eat, and then return to my sanctuary to fart freely, the way I can't when I'm in class. I get dressed in some semblance of a cute outfit, depending on my mood. I sometimes even bother to put on makeup if I really wanna impress motherfuckers today. I beg someone in the house to drop my needy ass off to the Metra station because I
a) do not have a car
b) am now commuting, which sucks more cock than a groupie
c) am a fucking dependent loser
d) all of the above
I get on the train and contemplate who to sit by based on their gender and age--old ladies are the best because they really don't give a shit. Why? Because they're usually asleep. Headphones in, I hope the conductors skip over me so I can get a free ride. When they come up to me with that clipper thingy, I die a little bit inside.
Go to school, which I now hate because it's full of assholes and I'm tired of learning about journalism when I don't even want to go into that field anymore. Plus, pretentious dickfaces and bitchfucks galore who are talking about their "album" or their next "modeling shoot." Go home tired if I didn't work, scrape off my hot girl disguise as Jenna Marbles would put it, ponder why my brother hates the shit out of me and doesn't talk to me anymore, ponder my forever alone existence, etc. I'm too lazy to even comb my hair, which is essential because it's not mine and therefore can get tangled if not taken care of. I eat. A lot. I tell myself I should stop, but I never gain any weight, and the scale in my house says I lost TWENTY pounds while I was sick with strep and mono. *shrugs* Eat without brushing my teef even though I should and in the past, I've had cavities galore--I was a lazy shit back then, too!--watch YouTube videos about nothing, fall asleep way too late, just wondering when my life won't suck balls the way it does now. When will I move out? When will I get a boyfriend? When will I figure out my life? How the hell did I take my pants off in my sleep?
I hope you guys enjoyed that little aside. I have some shit to scrape off my face. It's called apricot scrub. It's been there for a while.
Here's James Blake's new single.
