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ihadaheart
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Name: gretch'n
Country: Sweden
Interests: Things I Dig: accents, airports, alkaline trio, angelina jolie, art museums, black and white pictures, broncos, cardigans, chasing rainbows, cheesy commercials, crime novels, dredlocks on girls, fire, homemade jewelry, independent films, inside jokes, intelligent people, international men of mystery, johnny depp, making out, meditation, messy hair, mexican food, naked bodies, new words, old surfing movies, people watching, pink floyd, police trainer, rainy days, steve miller band, stretched ear lobes, super nintendo, surfing, swedish fish, swings, talking for hours, telephone booths, the doors, the ocean, the smell of gas, trendsetters, trendy glasses, tube socks, wayne gretsky, zen.
Expertise: i'm no Rasputin, you ain't no Rapunzel. i have willingly fallen, and you have cut your own hair thought we needed .m.o.t.i.o.n. at least until the war kicks in i go out in the world with you the last night of the burning flare
Occupation: Customer service/support
Industry: Manufacturing
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  B E E R for grls
Yahoo:  pinkyswearslie
Member Since:
9/7/2003
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| well, i'm over it.
done with you + i'm content with that.
i love the weather.
i love how things are.
i'm smiling + it's not because of anyone else.
the only thing i want, is to go somewhere. somewhere that you
never have to lock your doors. When you don't have cash on you, you buy
gas and the people at the station say, "Don't worry, I gotcha Grek."
There would be stars, and not just 8 or 9 that you have to make sure
aren't airplanes.
find this place.
+ take me there.
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| i know we made eachother happy at some point.
i just wish we could do it again.
i'll always feel this way for you. i can't help it.
i just wish you couldn't help it, too.
you're the only one i can see as my valentine.
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valentines day is just loves way of kicking you when you're down.
and
then beating you with giant boxes of chocolate and red roses.
and then
spitting on you.
and laughing. | | |
| summer and i got in a fight. you see, summer wants to leave, and i'm not through with it yet.
so we're not on speaking terms anymore.
not much going on. grounded for another week, this time it was worth it. poor xanga seems to be dead, oh well.. it had a memorable life.
verga me verga, pfcuk. | | |
| open up, this won't hurt.
i guess i'm just not a happy kid, you know? i've been trying, and my efforts just don't seem to be getting me anywhere.
i'm manic crazy sometimes and my eyes glaze over while i ramble strange things like a short circuit and bounce off the walls.
most days i talk too much. hardly ever listen. but if i went a day without opening my mouth, i doubt anyone could tell.
i
could drink you under the table and then drive home. all the while
pretending to be lil miss lightweight. when did that start again?
i
don't like it when certain people touch me. but i don't know who until
i can feel their heavy handprint. then i don't stop feeling it for a
while. embedded.
i lost my virginity too many times.
some mornings i wake up and my lips are crimson. like i drank blood. and i feel dead.
other mornings i have such dark circles under my eyes from God knows what. secretly, sometimes i like the way that looks.
i
constantly figit. i can't stay still. girl on the run. if my life were
a book, running away would be the theme hidden in the many symbols.
i would be nowhere without my blue eyes.
i
remember how people smell. the current one i miss is clean laundry and
pot. i have to glance over my shoulder to remind myself i'm making up
the fact that he'll come back for me.
i haven't felt well. i'm sick to my stomach most every day. i'm tired of it.
i'm afraid i won't be accepted to schools. terrified. i've tried to avoid it, but i keeps eating away at me.
i need a drink. many. i need a party. i need party friends.
i'm
a sucker for boys with dreads. seriously. if you're a boy with dreads,
i would love you so easily. i could be so good for you.
i
discovered i can go up to three days without showering before i feel
really gross. i think that's something good to know. i'm a slob at
heart, i guess.
i have this weird obsession with wanting to go home. when i'm there already. it's confusing to explain.
i'm
insanely jealous of your carefree life. you have no idea the pedistool
that i put you on. i want to spend so much more time with you and find
out all the secrets of the world. if i end up like you, i'll wind up
dead, and i like the danger.
everything'll be alright.
i need someone to make me feel better about myself. show me a good time.
my grandpa and chris call me gretchy. if anyone else were to, i'd get mad. i'm not sure why.
i could live off gatorade and sandwiches.
i really like the Virgin Mary and all the artwork of her. sacred hearts comfort me.
my
mom doesn't ignore the fact that i've started smoking a lot again, like
i wished she would. it makes me feel bad when i know she can smell it
in my hair. but i like the smell of it in my hair.
my heart
beats fast. faster than normal. i think that means i'm going to die
young. one can only hope. only the good die young, you know.
i want to tell you everything that keeps me up at night. but there's not enough time.
and i don't trust you.
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