Howdy y'all
Sep. 22nd, 2005 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trenchkamenI'm in Amarillo, and Amarillo still sucks.
I'm remembering just how dead and depressing this town is. And, yikes, few other places on earth than West Texas host people who use "y'all" three times in one sentence without missing a beat. I've gotten a comfortable balance of West Texan friendliness and Southern Baptist disapproving glares at my attire. Today it's all black with the pentacle necklace and red sunglasses, and I think I look fetching in it.
Tomorrow evening I'm going to the Canyon High football game, where the marching band and therefore people I knew in seventh grade will be. One girl in particular and I had a bad... separation, I guess you could call it, or rather, the illusions she had built around me finally disappeared after I had been in Arizona for two years, and now she regards me as being a lowbrow, vulgar wretch instead of the prince on the white horse for whom she would surrender her freedom. The thing that aided her in this conclusion: my writing. And I think the resent that comes from me having broken her heart helps.
Yeah, it's a long story, and I was young and a dumbass.
I wish I had found a replacement camera charger so I could take y'all some pictures.
Ironically, yesterday while I was rooting through my cabinets looking for the charger I found my writing notebooks from sixth grade containing my original character and plot information. It was physical evidence of What I Spent My Time in West Texas Losing Myself In After the Onset of Some Semblance of Relative Maturity.
Hannibal is a really good book. Unlike Silence of the Lambs I couldn't eat while reading some scenes, so I esteem it more intense.
I'm remembering just how dead and depressing this town is. And, yikes, few other places on earth than West Texas host people who use "y'all" three times in one sentence without missing a beat. I've gotten a comfortable balance of West Texan friendliness and Southern Baptist disapproving glares at my attire. Today it's all black with the pentacle necklace and red sunglasses, and I think I look fetching in it.
Tomorrow evening I'm going to the Canyon High football game, where the marching band and therefore people I knew in seventh grade will be. One girl in particular and I had a bad... separation, I guess you could call it, or rather, the illusions she had built around me finally disappeared after I had been in Arizona for two years, and now she regards me as being a lowbrow, vulgar wretch instead of the prince on the white horse for whom she would surrender her freedom. The thing that aided her in this conclusion: my writing. And I think the resent that comes from me having broken her heart helps.
Yeah, it's a long story, and I was young and a dumbass.
I wish I had found a replacement camera charger so I could take y'all some pictures.
Ironically, yesterday while I was rooting through my cabinets looking for the charger I found my writing notebooks from sixth grade containing my original character and plot information. It was physical evidence of What I Spent My Time in West Texas Losing Myself In After the Onset of Some Semblance of Relative Maturity.
Hannibal is a really good book. Unlike Silence of the Lambs I couldn't eat while reading some scenes, so I esteem it more intense.
