sometimes I want to crawl in a hole for no reason and wait until things are good.
oh wait.
things are good. I guess I want things to be better.
I kind of wish I could dance. I pretend I can, but I must look silly. Mary can dance. Megan can dance. Olivia can't dance.
I wish I could make my black and white less black and more white. I know this sounds racist, but those photo's just look so much classier next to mine.
Is it wrong to want to be popular still, after all those movies?
all I want is my inbox to be overflowing with spontaneous loving and plan making.
I don't mind being abnormally pale. I just wish it was evenly spread out rather than having red splotches of pigmented skin here and there. I look like a strawberry shortcake. not that that's bad, because I smell like one too.
When I was in second grade I wanted glasses. and braces. desperately. oh. and also carrot red hair. can't forget that. yes. I wished for these things. So ferverantly. And when my dentist said that I was for sure getting braces I cried. with joy. because I had wanted them for seven years. think I'm a nerd yet? it gets better.
but I'll stop there. to spare your image of me. I like to imagine myself an enigma of cool mystique. but that doesn't really work out with the previous words....
I think to much of what people think of me.
I think too much period. about things like
shakespearean insults, what heaven smells like, if anyone even reads my rantings, the point of patterns on toilet paper, how much skill it takes to graffiti in the dark of night, what green colored pencils taste like, what kind of mother I will be, if I will do my hair like La Roux when I am a wrinkled woman, and pink lemonade.
3 comments:
Olivia Gabrielle Petty.
I'm sorry you are having a rough day.
You should know
That I think you are gorgeous.
I am often jealous of your pale skin, your long fingernails, your luscious lashes and your beautiful blue eyes.
I'm jealous of your creativity. Your ability to write.
You will forever be a better actor than I.
And most of all, you should know that you are beautiful. And it doesn't matter what you think.
God created you. And he loves you. So it doesn't matter.
Smile. Take a deep breath. Sing a song without thinking about how you sound.
I love you dear.
Cheer up. :)
My goodness. I forgot what I wanted to say after reading Emilee's comment, which almost has me crying. I love your thoughts. And Evie is DYING to get braces, too. Also, popularity really does not matter. I mean, I know it does to you right now, but keep in mind that for the rest of your life it will be something that will not really define you. Plus, you will always be popular anyway because you are so awesome. Don't care what people think about you. At least not too much. Wherever you go for the rest of your life people will love you because of you and not because other people love you. Stay Olivia!
Olivia. Oh dear, there's not much to say after the previous comments, but I know how days like this feel.
Everyone wants to be popular. Even when they are, it doesn't feel like it. Everyone you know loves you, because it's pretty darn impossible not to. That sounds like popular to me.
Your beautiful. Even if you don't see it sometimes, everyone else seems to think so.
Keep hangin in there. See you at Shakespeare.
I love you, and I miss you.
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