alecto - your little bluejay (pollytrance) wrote,
alecto - your little bluejay
pollytrance

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The Edge In Her Voice Broke...

...and though she sounded angry, rebellious, careless and harsh, you could hear the trembling of her voice, and see the pain in her eyes.

After she had uttered the words, she began to cry. She realised, no matter how much she had told herself different, she had not changed one bit. She was still the country girl who rolled around in the hay and would bite you if you got to close.

She'd fooled herself into thinking she had class, but she remained crass, crass as she'd ever been, and sad. Sad at the realisation that she'd never be more than a child, not even to herself.

I went to Concord last night and saw Mike (no, not eighth grade love Mike, Mike-who-doesn't-do-drugs-but-sells-them-Mike), who introduced me to all of his friends as Kelly. Guess whose calls I won't be returning? Not that last night was a macking instance, it was purely friendly, but that still pissed me off. No matter how much I hate my name, it is still my name. Oh! Oh! I have a question. How come it turns out that everyone I meet from across the bridge is a drug dealer? That's what I want to know.

After hanging out at the Brenden until 11, torturing Hope and the kids in the booth, Mya and I came back to Benicia, hung out on First Street, learned a secret herbal formula for de-stress, and then came back to my house, watched Rat Race, and had the first girly sleepover of summer.

The movie I won on E-bay arrived today, and I'm dying to watch it. I have to watch it in order to give accurate feedback or whatever. I'm supremely tired and need lots of rest in order to survive tomorrow night's exploits. *Rasputina, here I come!*

Other than that-- nothing. Nothing upon fucking nothing, and things are fine.

I have to go shopping in a bit and find green nailpolish and a feather to wear in my hair for tomorrow night. I also have to call and see if it is all right to bring a camera. I also have to pack.

Ok, so maybe there's more going on than nothing, but this is my amendment: nothing is wrong. And that is what's fine.

Love to you all, darling fireflies.

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