Skal bare sjekke, gi helvette
Sitting in a cafè, looking out on the people wearing the same clothes, flopping the same hair etc., really makes me appreciate the fact that there are at least some humans who're infact sitting higher up i the development tree than others of out kind may apprear to be. What of they were retarded sheep? Bleating in sync, walking around in a little mindless pack. They may not be the lowest kind of the developed primates, but dangerously close. Why are they like this? My theory about them being too narrow- minded as to think for themselves, is the basic one. "The fear of not being liked or accepted in their social sphere." That's the same old story we are presented with every day by both the media and our environment. Needless to say: it is indeed the basic truth. We might not be proud of it, but we are all envious of one or another person for some "unknown" reason. I can easily admit to the fact that I am a very jealous person and I think you are nothing better.
It's easy, isn't it? To just constantly think rotten thoughts about her, wish horrible accidents would happen to her and for her luck, just once, turn in an awful direction. "Why are they together? What can he see in her? ", This goes through my mind and consumes so many spaces. When I realize the things that my mind pruduces, I take a step back and ask myself why I do this. It is all made inside my head. Maybe I'm just that type of person, that being said: what kind of person am I then?
"Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul" - John Dryden.
What I think Dryden's saying is that we are all jealous. This well-known feeling doesn't make you less of a person. Even tough there is little to do to make it go away, there is still some. Personally I'm considering keeping myself occupied and accepting myself. If that doesn't work, I might just continue this path, hating a few of the people on this earth and talking to only a fewer more about it all.
She never liked the royalties. Or, I never likes the royalties. I say this because, "she" is me. Letting you know this, is making it easier for me to hide everything. Although I hope I never hide the meaning of each sentence, since that is the only thing I want to put out. I?m horrible at keeping track of things. Especially important things. So the search kept going. On and on. For several months. This time, it was the search for someone worthy of my hearts key, which I had gotten back by the way. The bar was quite low, but if I did see someone, my bar raised, in fear. I was just so afraid of loosing my heart- key again. It had taken several crying nights and loads of alone time to regain such a wonderful thing. Maybe it's not right to call it a wonderful thing. With regards to the fact that, by now, it?s been tossed back and forth to eventually land on the ground. A pity, isn't it?
It?s a horrible feeling to look at the royalties as they make weekend plans. "Going to the castle for tea?" "Indeed Milton" "It's just wonderful up there." "Oh, yes milord." "Nothing like a good cucumber sandwich while humoring myself with knowing that I have broken a girls heart." "I bet there is not milord. How is the misses doing? Fine after the trip?" "Yes, Milton."
That's how I imagine the king talking to his servant, Milton I call him.
I wish for the queen to die. Or become the new Milton. My Milton. "Wash my bum Millie. I just had a big poop." That what I want to say to her. Oh the inner joy it brings me to even think of her as a servant. Looking at me and the king, sitting together, knowing that she is not good enough, but that I is. Right now, I was Millie/Milton. Not good enough for his highness. Not good enough apparently. Not a too good feeling. No. Serving the royalties will not be my life goal! If I can't have that king, I bet there is other hotties wearing a crown and a title. In my heart at least. Well, there is the duke. A secret feeling inside of me have been growing for so long. For only this duke. The title couldn't bother me less. It is his looks that win me over. Although, every time I see him now, I feel sick. Knowing that he also, has a duchess. Damn. She looks like a Milton.
I guess neither of that matters now, as the looks of another girl had queen status in his heart. What does the kiss matter now? kisses actually. Lock and load. Loaded and locked. Locked with anger and sadness, locking was the next thing to do now. Her heart. Where was that goddamn key? I bet to hell he has it. hope he throws it away. So it never has to get opened again. Fuck. That shitty whats-his-face all cocky prince, is well off whit his ugly ass princess. That's what makes her a queen. But she doesn't deerve him. And a kingdom where the king and queen is not together, but forced by elder powers to be separated, is just twisted.
The way the king makes my heart feel .. No, nothing there to talk about. Besides the emtyness of course. The feeling of bing left alone. Used and abused by one you were willing to give you heart to. No, nothig to talk about. Besides the fear of doing such a mistake againg and leading it to a disater like this.
Awfulness comes in any colours, but the only colour you really want to put down and throw away is the black colour. Representing: emptyness, nothingness and lack of knowlingde. Basically her feelings now. Poor heart, feeling torn apart and sown back together again by a butcher, only to be throwd away.
Where the hell is that goddamn key. If she can survive this, she's gonna need that key. For a special one this time.
Where is that goddamn key?
There she sat, once more, with the alcohol running through her bloodsteem. She was taking shots, like never before. She wasn't what tou would call a freshman, but she had never done anything like this before. A sadness only heartbroken girls knew of, was painted upon her face. She was sad, oh she was sad.
In her mind, she had this wheel you see. It stops sometimes, and she thinks of whatever the wheel stops on. Right now, it's somewhat broken, so it's stuck between boys and liqour. She's taking care of both things right now. She is sitting on one boys lap, and taking shots. She frenches him. Even though she knew she was going to regret this tomorrow. She just wated that sweet boy on the other side of the room to notice her. "Hi!" he had been looking at her, and she back. Now she said "hi", and he responded with coming towards her. "Aren't you gonna drink?" she asked him with this drunken- tone in her voice. He held up a bottle of beer, just another way of saying that he was drinking as well. "Come with me" he said. So she did. She stumbled, he catched her. Like a prince charming, and he carried her into another room. Loud music was playing, and the sofa was free, so he sat down with her there, with her on his lap. She was tired, but not sleeping. He touched her, up and down the arms. They looked at eachother. This was not the first the party where they have ended up kissing somewhere (I hope I mentioned that). Anyway, they freched too, like nymphs with a gun to their head. The clock was close to ten, she should be putting o her running shoes by now. But this was way better that trying to find the way home, stumbling and shit.
And she had her shoes on anyways, them fansy converse shoes that she bought two weeks ago. So cool.
She forced down more shots, laughter was in the room, and everyone has a great time! And they kissed, ad her feelings for him grew, but was he just a user? They had never kissed for this long before, and he had become nicer around her. Did he like her, or the looks of her ?
I saw you today .
Hope you did'nt see me .
I saw you today .
I had no make- up on .
My hair was messed up .
I saw you today .
I wanted to throw up .
Almost fell .
I saw you today .
You didn't even realize
that I still know your name .
I saw you today .
I love you so much .
Hope you didn't see me .
