Every since i was a kid, people who have known me would sing a song titled after my name. Normally it would be the one in west side story ( if i never hear that song again it will be too soon), and lately it’s been the Carlos Santana ( that was a little better, but eh). I never really cared for it, being in public and having people break out into song. I just never did anything for me, if anything it just made me uncomfortable of my song, and how it would be associated with me. That being said I think this is one of the few songs that I might be able to stand, it just gives me a good feeling and that makes me happy.
I just lifted up my armpits and was able to smell myself
I smell delicious….
i wish I could eat myself.
I get to do a project about latin@ character in comics, and punk bands in Latin America, so fucking excited, on another note, if anyone has information about punk bands in latin america that would be greatly appreciated
i need to stop wanting people that don’t want me .
I just fell off my bed, and can’t walk anywhere. did i mention i have papers due today, and there is no physical way of me being to move anywhere, and these bitches don’t take email sent. it also doesn’t help that i talked to the teacher and she was like just don’t miss anymore classes.
I should get a buisness card made that says part-time person that helps you out during a freak out, and professional procrastinator. And just give them out randomly
i’m getting really sick of people telling me I have an impoverished mentality. People who I have shared some of my life stories with, who know that I come from a life with few economical resources and had needed help from government aid programs. I thought ~*~university~*~ was about taking different points of life styles and bring them to full front especially those who have been marginalized. Not trying to silence narratives that don’t agree and paint a slightly more charming, and comfortable stories, but it instead demonstrate the stories that make our realities our own.
But then again i’m not even surprised by the fact that my stories are not the ones that want to be heard.
I should be writing a paper but instead i’m watching hari kondabulo. i have no regrets
I jsut found out that Lianne La Havas is playing in San Francisco soon. And i’m totally debating buying tickets.
Its my birthday and i am now 22. I don’t know if i should feel different, more loved, more wise. In the end i still feel like a 15 year old wanting to be 5 year old me because 5 year old me knew what was going down.
I just saw a commercial with Janelle Monae, and at that moment I realized I would buy whatever this woman was selling
I really want some chicken chow mein now.
What the fuck did i do to the world so that I would get sick. I have to papers to write an. about a hundred pages of reading to get done by tonight. Screw you world i’m over you/
Personal shit
Shit that I don’t give a fuck if you read but you best leave me alone because of it.
After dealing with so much shit, it’s nice to know that I don’t have to any longer. My bitch of a roommates moving out. fuck yeah.
