Natasha

I remember what i've worn every first day of school since second grade and what it smelled like when i slammed my middle finger in that big door when i was five... one time a lady i didnt know put a pie tin in our toilet and i forgot to ask her why and that bothers me... i'll probably never have a "real job" and i hope thats okay with you... all i really wanna do is run and jump and laugh and play and then write about it later that night... i want to take a train to boston and sit next to an asian lady and ask her what her favorite song is.. ill never forget her and ill never forget which seats we sat on but i might not remmeber how much i paid for my train ticket becuase i don't care. i want to get people and be gotton sometimes, too.
Last week i took a coaster from work because a boy and girl wrote back and forth on it and i like that.... i get nervous when i say my own name and im not sure why i own a garbage because i cant seem to throw anything away.... i like the way your voice sounds when your smiling and saying a word or two inbetween kisses that eventually completes a sentance or thought. im not embarrassed by talking about pooping or vaginas but i am embarrassed to ride in a bus because of the way everyones head bounces in sync.... i cant even look at yours let alone bear the thought of you staring at mine.......
I am this way because of you. because of that note you gave me in eighth grade and because of the way my mom let me jump rope in the house when i was young. because of my first speeding ticket and because of that tap dance class... because of those pills years ago and because of my old bedroom.. because of the way you talk slower and your words are more drawn out when you really mean it. because of my roommate.. because of my step brother... because of that trip to burger king in that small town in minnesota last summer... because of the way you wanted to be my friend on the first day of fifth grade because i had "cool bracelets." because of that lady in the bathroom at perkins and the way my keys slid under the door and the sound that it made when they did it... because you always showed up at my window at night.
because you hated me.
because you loved me.
because of you.
....and i like it this way.
www.livejournal.com/users/napoopa
www.xanga.com/aperfectsonnettt
.. aperfectsonnettt
M S N : [email protected]
Home | Browse | Search | Invite | Film | Mail | Blog | Favorites | Forum | Groups | Events | Videos | Music | Comedy | Classifieds