I got smashed. (again)
Monday, November 19, 2007
I think I spoiled my specs today. The ball went 'WHOOSH (DIE!) WHOOSH' and slammed into my face.
I felt absolutely 'poo-ey' after that. Like when you chuck a kitty into a toilet bowl and flushed it a couple of times then take the kitty out and laugh at it. My nose was in a state of absolute pain and I was afraid that I might have broken it...
But it wasn't, of course. Otherwise I would have to get plastic surgery.
Because the ball slammed into my right side of the face, my nose went like a running tap and it was horrendous...x.x Then I think I was semi-crying.
They kept asking me if I'm okay. I said I was. (but actually...I felt BEYOND okay.)
Then I went up to sorta fix my specs and escape from the crappy feeling.
Once again, heaven is rather cruel...
So what happened was: I went into the lift and then I just broke down.
I think if Freya could see this, she would scream, "You just got hit by a ball! Oh my god. What in the world are you crying about? It's only a ball!"
But I don't think I was crying about the ball. (or the specs)
I think I was crying about something else. Probably cuz I felt rather alone. I just wanted someone to be there and pat my head and go, "It's okay..." and then rub my nose a little just to make sure it isn't broken.
But nooooooo. There isn't anybody like that. There never was and never will be.
I will never ever get to rub my smudged and wet, crying face that is filled with mucus onto someone's t-shirt. (LOL. mucus. I think I'm mad.)
So I guess I'll have to settle for acting strong and saying that I'm okay.
"Hey...you okay mah?"
"Huh? Oh...I'm fine."
"Sure anot?"
"Yeah...I'll be okay." Then I'll smile.
Mmhm.
Although I may feel like a discarded kitty, I'll be okay.
Yup. I will be.
......
......
Anyways...it's been days since that pointless arguement with Frank and we've completely stopped talking to each other. He already apologized, but a certain feeling in me made me seriously pissy and therefore I don't think I really forgave him. (but i said it's okay or something. I think.)
I guess, with all the best-friend feelings we have, I've never expected him to say such words to me.
I can be overbearing sometimes, but I'm harmless. (unless I purposely try not to be. If you manage to get me into that state, you're dead. It is spelled as: D.E.A.D.)
But he's not dead yet. So you get the point.
Maybe we shouldn't talk about unhappy things. Let's talk about...
Oh yeah. Haz has officially introduced me to the world of dollfies. I went to the Dream of Doll website and maaaaaan...
The dolls there are teh hawt.
And that is weird, seeing that such a statement came from me. (I've hated dolls since young. Such as Barbie...and Ken...and all those weird prancing thingys or those which go, "Mama!" when you poke them somewhere. Those with the open-close eyes thing are seriously freaky and should not be touched.)
And it is all thanks to Chuckie. The evil freaky piece of-...well. you get it.
Anyways. Dollfies are in a completely different league in comparison to the normal dolls.
They are the ambassadors of Beauty and Perfection. I swear.
Here's a picture of one:
Credits to the Dream of Doll website of course.
He's called Black Ducan. God, he's sexy. I have other pictures. But think the whole blogger server will overload like mad.
So I shall add another one of Black Ducan and probably introduce the rest next time.
Kyaaaaaaaa~! x.x
Looking at him makes me wanna fangirl.
Let's add another photo. So I'll finally be satisfied.
Oh no. My mum is gonna kill me.
Shall continue this post tmr. See ya!
9:37 AM i need you.