All I gotta say is its a damn good thing last night happened when it did.
Rocky horror. Good shit. Sparked my sexual inneundo muse, tickled my senses, raped my vocal chords...
But the best part was when I came home at 2:30 in the morning and washed all the red dye out of my hair in the shower. Goddamn, it was gorgeous. It looked like there was streams of blood just pouring from my head. The entire shower was red, there was red everywhere, I left red stains on everything i touched...it looked like psycho. Or carrie. It was so goddamn cool..I wish I had a videotape of it, but don't you all.
Oy, i don't really feel like flinging all of the details all over the place because this is going to follow me around all week anyway. I'm developing a weird following. Like I said in my fairly disturbed penultamate penultamate blog, I gain notoriety for very, very dumb reasons and I don't really try that hard. Its nice at times and it makes you a lot of friends..but it doesn't always feel fair. i dun really do that much. But all the same..last week..

Hannah: *nonchalantly walking down the hall in usual attire*
random girl: *runs up to me* You! You are awesome! I don't know who you are, but you are awesome! I love you! I have this present for you, but I keep forgetting to bring it in because every time I do I can't find you, but you are SO awesome!
Hannah: *looks around on the floor for her jaw* Wow! You're awesome too! But you wanna know the funny thing?
Random girl: What?
Hannah: I don't know who the hell you are!
Random Girl: I don't know you either!
Hannah: I'm Hannah!
Girl: I'm Maura!
*hug*

Okay, so I have a friend named Maura now. Guess what I did to achieve that? Attain her trust? Strike up a conversation? Nope, I dressed like an ass and smoked a bubble pipe in the hallways. It 'ent fair, I tell you. Some people in this school don't have anywhere near enough friends and they are perfectly nice amazing crazy individuals..they just aren't this outspoken and loud. I need to develop a list so they can all hang out. Unfair, unfair...but I'm glad Maura did that, cuz she is one of the sweetest kids I've met in awhile. And shes not actually a stalker, but shes definetely part of my following, which I really did nothing to create and yet people still piss at me behind my back "ew, why do so many people like her, all she does is act like a lunatic". Good fucking question, I don't know either. Not in my control. But...the attention I attract is usually from very cool people, so I don't quite mind. I just don't really think its fair. I wish that friends club at our school would fly better. Its such a good idea, but its not really going to work out methinks.
I want my jillian back. My lil' 8-year old clone from willow grove day camp. She was an amazing young woman. Not a kid. I don't care what anybody says, that kids a full grown adult.

Hannah: I think this hat looks pretty snazzy
Jillian: *makes halo motions above my head* EGO! EGO! EGO!

Miss her dearly.

"What diabolical chicken sat on your forehead and took a shit on your tie?"-one of the rocky horror cast.

ryan assisted me in my disturbed blogging viewer diversionary tactics by giving me the interview amabob.
Rocky horror tonight, this now.

Well, one of my questions was going to be about your suppression of emotion through insanity, but you blew through that one already... Thusly!

1. What would you want in a husband? (I say "would" because you're never going to get a man )

Virile, healthy, disturbed. I don't think I'd be all too compatible with normal, considering I'm not compatible with anything to begin with. Someone who's not afraid to tell me I'm wrong or dominate me. Somebody who isn't afraid to smack me around a bit when I act up. Insane libido, otherwise it probably would not work at all. Not a dumbass. I don't mean all intellectual "la dee da I am listening to fine music and drinking fine wine" I mean "the world sucks and we're all going to die but in the meanwhile I think I'm going to fall in love and marry this weirdo". I dunno. Not a pansy. The respectable flowery lavishing every freaking moment of worship sappy hair-gelled back with a boquet of roses idiots make me sick. I just want somebody who'll treat me like a woman (not even sure what that means). I've been the guy my entire life. Just need some dominating bastard that I end up loving for some reason and him me. Once again, my love life would be way easier if I was a lesbian. I'm a dominatrix that pukes at the sight of a submissive. I guess I just want a friend who fucks me occasionally. or frequently, rather. I have no "perfect guy" things because its the imperfections, negative qualities,
and psychotic tendencies that turn me on the most.


2. If you were put in an isolation chamber for 2 weeks, what would you be like/do after the first week? The second week? When you got out?

I have plenty of people to talk to in my mind (no sarcasm), so I'd probably solve some of my philosophical problems. I'd have spent the first week singing, masturbating, and thinking about situations that never happened, answers to unasked questions and questions which I probably could never answer. After the second week I probably would have developed some type of schizophrenia and not notice the isolation chamber, but since my hands are restless I would have no cuticles, thered be discharge everywhere, and all my hair would be in pencil braids. I'd still be talking to myself, singing, crying, screaming and laughing at length. When I got out, I'd be very calm, normal, and well rested. I'd just need a shower and I'd come back to whatever I was doing before I went into iso with less thoughts in my mind. I think I'd have a good sleep in my alternate reality.

3. Why?

Why in hell not? Everybody else is doing it, they just don't say anything.

4. More sexual: Licking peanut butter off someone's forehead, or licking off mayonnaise?

Peanut butter, mayonnaise is gross. Cum tastes better than mayonnaise. And peanut butter.

5. What happens when you sit calmly with your pain?

I slide into an alternate reality. My eyes go completely blank and I can't see anything or hear anything else but my imagination. It's very dark, but I never physically close my eyes. I hear sounds, music, all of my thoughts run in front of my eyes like a tv screen. I still operate on the outside, but my soul is somewhere else. Hypothetical dialogues in different people's voices run across my brain at length, sometimes entire days worth of talking. Its like somebody is pulling a ski mask with television screens all over the inside of it over my face for many minutes. When I'm in one of these states, I literally cannot see or hear anything. It's like being in a coma. Except I'm moving.

THE RULES:
1 - Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 - I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3 - You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 - You'll include this explanation.
5 - You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed

At least february is over.
Something is very wrong with me right now. I'm going nuts. Laughing a little too much. I literally talked to myself for about an hour last night. And I was like screaming..it was funny, and I think I was doing it to be weird, but it still fucked me up quite a bit . This morning..first period..I freaking lost it. I was so angry. I don't even know why. Something. Weird things kept setting me off that didn't make any sense. And I deal with depression with insanity. The worse I get, the weirder I get. I fetalized on the floor a few times, bolted in and out of mrs merlo's room, slid around the floor on my back, kicked walls still on my back
Karen: Hannah, why are you rearanging all the books?
Hannah: SINCE WHEN DO YOU ASK SO MANY FREAKING QUESTIONS, QUESTION FACE!
i'm in trouble. I'm weird, but not this weird. Merlo's worried. She walked in on me writing "RAGE" on the board in capital letters. I am yelling a lot more. I think I have to pee constantly, but I don't. I'm just insanely hormonal.
Danielle walked by me in the hallway and said hi hannah. I bit her arm. I'm nuts. If I stop typing, a bunh of weird shit starts running through my mind. I'm annoying people. I'm annoying sage. I'm annoying myself. But thats not my problem. Usually it is.My problem is that I don't really care who I piss off anymore. But then again..H1. H2 is the one that caters to other people..me...if you don't like it I'm probably going to kill you. At least in my mind. Intrusive thoughts are interesting things. I gain a lot of notoriety for the stupidest of shit. I shouldn't have this much fame! Fame is a fickle friend, infamy is a loyal stalker. Who am I to everybody who doesn't know me? Bubble girl. Kid with the bra on the outside of her clothes. Singing person. Kid with the tutu. Possible E-tard. The one who gave me a tissue the one time I was crying in the bathroom, the one who gave me a dollar for no reason, the one who gave me candy for no reason, the one who says funny stuff in class, the one who remembered my birthday, the one I consulted once with my personal issues who was nice and very helpful but I never went back anyway...
The people who know me? Shes scary. Weird. Wonderful, eccentric, smart, but poison. Completely off her fucking rocker. Horny. Carnal. Fangs dripping. Wants blood, so i'm gonna run. I don't trust shes gonna give it back. Too loud. Too much. Not enough. weird weird weird weird i'm going to beat you with a ceramic plate. Too far up, too deep underground hell blasted her back because the devil wouldn't take her (but he don't exist anyhow, not like she'd believe)
AHHHH.
yup.
You know the crazy thing? I'm not even in love anymore. I am just afraid of the damn future. Coward, coward, coward..
I have one ambition keeping me alive.
I want a baby.
Thats all I want to do with my life. Career, i'll figure it out. If theres one thing I do, it's figure out how to do things.
But other than that...I'm concieving a child by the beltane fire hair down flowers spread and a horned man in the dark, then I'll bring her into the world by the waxing moon, naming her Tara and living my life so that she may live hers.
Theres my father, but he can't sustain my will to live alone.
I want to have a child. My body asks for it, screams with each passing month..purge some of this life..create a new physical spirit, theres too many spirits in this body alone I want to watch her become real and spread her wings and leave me..
Then I'll die content.
I want a child...not now, but I want to be ready..i'm going to spend myself learning enough wisdom so I may pass it on to a child. My little girl..
This post is too rich for human blood, but I am not blood nor muscle i'm just life computing computing biding time so I may create more life.
I'm a social virus.
Nobody can get rid of me, even if I want them to or vice versa.
I'm not in love...but i'm still very, very sick.
hard to believe? Welcome to planet earth captains oblivion.
"A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject"-I can't remember anything at this point, if I go into memories I'll never move forward. So I don't know who said this. Shut up.

2 hour delay? Are they high?

"Beware of all professions requiring you to buy new clothing."-Thoreau

I headed a page in my math notebook "psycho babble" and then just started writing stuff. If you have a low tolerance for cursing and low-grade nonsensical offensive humor, please stop reading now.

Okay, so bow wow chica bow wow is the sound those crazy ass funk guitars make and a crazy ass could also be a donkey on crack, or the other kind of crack is an ass fault or assphalt thats black like sage and the nightime if you look in the bell of a trombone you see the faces of all the ones you've wronged like Mcdonalds, dude if they owned a folding chair company and the chair broke because you were fat, you couldn't sue mcdonalds for being fat bastard is in that austin powers movie and that other austin powers movie and that one too, shit if you had a pile of bastard shit it'd be fatherless and so where it came from would be a pile of mother shit and the father would be a pile of mother fucking shit. But shit can't breed, see? Shit doesn't have genitalia. Genitals! What kind of a word is that? It's too sweet sounding. It sounds like you've got some kind of popsicle on your crotch or a dixie cup not a badass meat rod or spaz hole. I'm changing it! Don't tell me about genitalia, I'm calling 'em funkables. Now that word has MEAT! Not "oo la dee da look at me and my genitals" its "BAM, BITCH YOU BEST BE SPANKIN MY FUNKABLES!" Funkatalia! Gettin your funk on. What yeah so I'm drinkin this bottle of spring water right and I'm thinking what fucktard decided to put nutrition facts on them? It's water. We all know there aint nothin in it. And if you care about chemicals, stop drinking water. Unless you want deionized liquid distilled death eating out your organs from the inside, your water has chemicals in it. If you feel a need for ingredients on bottles of water, I feel a need to shove a tampon in your eye socket. If companies spent money they use for spring water labels somewhere worthwile, like public school, we'd all be better off. I know the whole "why is the blackboard green" thing is tired, but hell I think its an easy enough switch to call i a chalkboard. But why in hell did they change it? Black is much cooler than green to write on. Black says "hoo yeah we schoolin like a creature of the night" and the chalk shines like neon cum stains on the board, but green?? For trees and life, it kicks ass, for school chalkboards its vomit. You know what white writing on green makes me think of? Exploded seagull guts in the water at the jersey shore. The blackboard should be black. Webster is an ass. People make decisions based on websters definition of things. Who in hell asfyxiated and made him the fucking emporere of logic? Writing a damn dictionary, you obviously have very little life/penis. With that kind of knowlege, he should have been curing aids and solving the mystery of where his balls were, not writing a damn dictionary. That man probably had the social life of a pencil shaving. I'm gonna write a better dictionar if I become completely paralyzed and have no money for whores. It will include funkables and Webster's picture next to "knowlege-wasting piece of moss and duck shit striped pussy sponge".

I'm using the stream of conciousness while I was trying to sleep last night as my quote.

*lying down, thinking about melissas blog for some reason*
Huh..fat bird...they should make a movie about the fat bird...They could call it "Lard of the Wings"...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*laughs on and off for about an hour, falls asleep in english the next morning as a result*

Nate and sage are getting funky.

Somethin' stinks and I want some
Somethin' stinks and I want some
Somethin' smells like a great big SKUNK
Somethin' stinks and I want some

Bow wow wow yipee yo yipee yay

You want fries with that shake?

She's a freak..boy was it neat, yeah
She's a freak
The girls a freak
The girl never misses a beat
When she dance she set the world On FIRE


Shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and Jam!
Shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and Jam!

Cuz they make more profit pretending they don't want it than selling it

W-double E-D weed

OHH YEAH

Santa Claus was black and christmas was last night, cuz I saw george clinton and shook hands with most of the band. He breathed the same pot smoke infested air as me. Rachel Klein and Jenna Kauffman were there. Fucking! AWESOOMMMMEEEEE!
o and walters home

Dad: Walter, you need to stop cursing.
Walter: Ok. (looks out the car window) HOLY SHIT, A DALMATIAN!

My one failing as a nonconformist is my infatuation with school dances. Although I guess it's still nonconformity considering nobody I usually hang out with went.
Soph hop was hot as shit. I danced the night away in my extra-hot thrift store suit and tan fedora (you know, sage almost prevented me from buying that hat..thats my favorite hat..and the coolest...what a dork...)
Anyway, I boogied, drank more soda than I have in years, hung out with people I usually never talk to and people hung out with me that usually never talk to me in turn, met some folks, recieved an unexpected following of black males that realized I could pop, and even got to hang out with the G of the shaman gangsters. Gabe was chaperoning. He had a green suit. I slow danced with three other people in a clump. Some dude grinded on me.
good night. One of those nights that was real good but not so amazing that felt satisfying..like you could eat it, ya know?
Dance...is an amazing outlet for me. Especially considering I'm a complete and total attention whore. But theres something good that comes inside when you can just move from the heart, and instead of people critizing you like they usually do, instead you're in a circle of people who would never talk to you in the halls going "go hannah! go hannah! go hannah!"
damn.
flashdance. What a feeling.
Today: Manet exhibit.
Tonight: George Clinton O_O
I'm so goddamn spoiled..

"Can I get a cup of ice? On the rocks?"-watashi? *points to nose*