Sunday, 1:40 p.m.   We are Cracked In A Good Way Ode to chocolatecoatedmarshmallow fish. These marshmallow fish Coated in chocolate wrapped in goodness Make me sick They are tasty They are sweet I ate too many They are deceptive. Under the guise of sweetness They convince you to eat more. And More. And soon enough there aren't any left. And I am so sad. And I am so sick. This is your fault! This is your doing! You stupid fish! You stupid sweet! It's the lusciousness. The milky, melt-in-your-mouth The chocolate blanketing. It's the pinky red The soft sweet insides The marshmellow guts. I am seduced My tastebuds are in euphoria My stomach is writhing in pain My tongue wants more My middle wants none But I am convinced to eat more And more. And now there aren't any left. And I am so sad. And I am so sick. This is your fault! This is your doing! You stupid fish! You stupid sweet! ----------------- 8:34 p.m. I took a walk this evening after Daddy talked sternly at me for wanting to get on the computer. I had been listening to Beethoven and reading Feed (by the way. I loved this book. Second time reading it. If you don't wanna think though, don't even bother. Just know that you're the one causing this book to happen. So thanks, I guess. Sort of.) for the past hour and a half. I asked Daddy what exactly he wanted me to do. He ... didn't really know what to say. He stumbled for an answer, he said, "Read! or...take a walk! Something!" I went back to my room and finished off Feed for the second time, And then I huddled by the heater and cried. I'm not sure why. Maybe a mixture between Feed being an overall depressing book and my own hurt because I can't talk to Scott whenever I want. Lame huh. Lame but true. Then I put on a sweatshirt and my peacoat and I grabbed my newsboy cap and walked back to the livingroom. Announced I was going on a walk. Went on a walk. My dad came out to find me. He was looking for a park. I found it eventually. He did too, only he took a longer way. I heard children laughing in one big house with the lights on and it sounded, I don't know. Good. It sounded like love. But I saw a tree growing into a wooden trellis porch built onto a house. It kind of looked like the tree was embracing the trellis, the way it was leaning into it and its branches were all weaved into it. Like the wood the trellis was made out of used to be the tree's best friend or something, and it's in silent mourning. And trying to become the trellis to join its friend. Leave it to me to think up weird tree stories. I like trees. Do I prod too much? Or do people open up to me just because they want to? I barely know this guy, I don't know. He's really cool, my best friend here. He told me though when I first met him that he didn't really open up to people but it's been about two and a half weeks and here he is. Telling me all this stuff. I feel honored, that he would confide in me, And now I feel like I don't at all appreciate what I have. I take my family and my perfect childhood for granted. I have this perfect life and I am all "waah" whine whine whine. I want to change that. I can be better than this. I want to make some difference, okay? All this is making me want is to join the Peace Corps. And then I look at the world and the shabby state its in and want to join Greenpeace. I wonder can I do both? And still be someone that people can come to, with my arms open always ready to give a hug or be a shoulder to cry on, ready to listen. Ready to talk. I want to be this ideal woman. Who gives a shit what I look like, as long as I'm welcoming and always have a big heart.