This is why we can't have nice things

I don't really know what to write. I never do. In class when I'm supposed to be ya know paying attention I think of lots of things that I should write about it. Case in point: I really have to get back on ritalin. But then I get to my laptop or notebook and nothing. I think nothing and write nothing. Ballad Of Big Nothing (Hey Elliot). It's like everything I thought is erased from my mind. Maybe I should carry around a tiny notebook just to write down little reminders. "Crane walked in front of you at Campus and your screamed running across the field. Embarrassed yourself to all passerby" type of thing.

Like how people wake up from dreams and your supposed to write down some of the key things to remember it in the morning. Because your mind will forget a lot of the details. It's pretty fucked I'd have to do that just to remember what I though an hour ago. But mostly I now have this thought of how people are talking to themselves all day basically.

I have to try and watch Suht Jhally lectures now till he's a little voice in my head. A little skullet hair having South African or British voice. Shit, obnoxious laugher. It's like a duck sucked in some helium and it is now being strangled.

The sun is warm, the grass is green.

A friend of mine came into my room today asking me If I could kill a bug in her room down the hall. I asked how big, she said it was the size of her hand. She saw the petrified look on my face and asked if I knew any guys on the floor who could. I ran myself to the guy's who live across from me and knocked on their door like the redcoats were a-comin. One of them took care of it. He didn't even flinch or squeal just a little when he saw it. He put it in a bottle and released it. I was all about killing it but he refused. I see insects as an enemy. We're at a constant war. Their are gonna be casualties.

But anyways I couldn't help but feel fucking ridiculous. I'm bigger and stronger then an insect, at least the ones that live in the Northeast and have no possibility of poisonous glands. If I watched myself on video when reacting to a bug I'd hate myself completely. Screaming. Shrieking. Hysteria.

It's not my fault I don't like insects. I was raised in an environment of insect fear. Well, I guess not totally, because my Dad handled them without any problem. But there we go I identified with my mom as another female not my Dad. There's some deep psychological shit involved with my fear of insects/vermin. I can't be blamed. My parents can though. I blame them for lots of things so let's add it to the list.

Although, every time there's an insect or mouse situation with my mom or sister I take care of it. They get even more whiny and hysterical then me. So I get all pissed off and high and mighty and take care of it just to be like "You guys are ridiculous. Seriously? Grow up." But when I'm not pissed or trying to make a point I just do what they do down a notch.

And there's no way I'm thinking about the insect or mouse's safety. If I kill a bug I take about two pounds of paper towel and squash that shit like it could possibly push it away and punch me in the face. I beat mice with brooms and leave the door open to give them the option of fleeing for their life. I've seen the Next Karate Kid and it's one of my favorite movies but I'm sorry if a bug is in my space I'm going to freak and try to kill it. If I'm outside and I see a bug I run away and let it be, but if you're up in my living space you're in hostile territory.

The bug lived today though. It was thrown out MY WINDOW. Even now I'm imagining that hairy freaky little thing crawling up the wall and getting through a crack in my wall to kill me. I'm going to sleep on the edge of my bed tonight and wrapping my blanket around my head. I might suffocate, but the bug won't touch me or go down my throat. Completely reasonable way of thinking.