The Ninth Ball

ABOUT
My name is Laura, and this is a blog of a girl who does not care anymore.




I am Agnes.

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(via erdick-yu)

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The last time I was anywhere close to being this angry was back in sophomore year when I went to Disneyland with my high school band. While we were waiting in line, someone I was not too fond of was boasting about how he had thrown tabasco sauce at the snake on Indiana Jones earlier that day.
I didn’t think about it again until I felt something wet fall into my hair and on my face during the first bumpy part of the ride, right after the car makes a sharp turn to the left after “looking into the eyes of Mara.” I immediately thought of what he said earlier, and you do not know how much I hate tabasco sauce. All this hatred and fury instantly manifested as contorted face and a horrible yell. How convenient that the culprit was sitting in the seat right in front of me; I had the sudden impulse to appropriately rip out his hair.
Good thing I didn’t, though. My good friend Malia told me that it was water after evaluating the damage as our car hobbled along the track, but I was still pissed for the rest of the ride. Said idiot decided to throw the open water bottle out of the vehicle right at the part that our dear friend Indy is hanging right over the car. Sadly, that made the situation worse, with the water bottle spilling the remainder of its contents as it flew through the air onto the back row, including myself, Malia, and an irate couple that was sitting next to us.
The incomptent thrower got what was coming to him. The guy sitting next to me started cussing him out while his girlfriend echoed his offensive words. I silently cheered him on a little, still upset and recovering from the highest level of anger I have ever experienced. It was quite a funny experience in retrospect, and it is now a very fond memory Malia and I share.
What I am feeling right now isn’t strong enough to the point that I want to pull out someone’s hair, or even my own. However, I am trying to evaluate what’s more detrimental to my psyche: one brief moment of extreme anger or an incessant irratation that will not go away or let me sleep.
Oh wait, that’s a no-brainer. Never mind.

The last time I was anywhere close to being this angry was back in sophomore year when I went to Disneyland with my high school band. While we were waiting in line, someone I was not too fond of was boasting about how he had thrown tabasco sauce at the snake on Indiana Jones earlier that day.

I didn’t think about it again until I felt something wet fall into my hair and on my face during the first bumpy part of the ride, right after the car makes a sharp turn to the left after “looking into the eyes of Mara.” I immediately thought of what he said earlier, and you do not know how much I hate tabasco sauce. All this hatred and fury instantly manifested as contorted face and a horrible yell. How convenient that the culprit was sitting in the seat right in front of me; I had the sudden impulse to appropriately rip out his hair.

Good thing I didn’t, though. My good friend Malia told me that it was water after evaluating the damage as our car hobbled along the track, but I was still pissed for the rest of the ride. Said idiot decided to throw the open water bottle out of the vehicle right at the part that our dear friend Indy is hanging right over the car. Sadly, that made the situation worse, with the water bottle spilling the remainder of its contents as it flew through the air onto the back row, including myself, Malia, and an irate couple that was sitting next to us.

The incomptent thrower got what was coming to him. The guy sitting next to me started cussing him out while his girlfriend echoed his offensive words. I silently cheered him on a little, still upset and recovering from the highest level of anger I have ever experienced. It was quite a funny experience in retrospect, and it is now a very fond memory Malia and I share.

What I am feeling right now isn’t strong enough to the point that I want to pull out someone’s hair, or even my own. However, I am trying to evaluate what’s more detrimental to my psyche: one brief moment of extreme anger or an incessant irratation that will not go away or let me sleep.

Oh wait, that’s a no-brainer. Never mind.

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(Source: leilockheart.me, via leilockheart)

QUOTE
— William Congreve
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— Henry Miller
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(Source: appleday)

TEXT

I miss those panties.

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Sharing this with the world. It needs to be heard.

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I’m a mess.
But I have Donji, my ukulele, and Cafe Life on Facebook. What more could a girl need?

I’m a mess.

But I have Donji, my ukulele, and Cafe Life on Facebook. What more could a girl need?