i cant listen to the french part in partition bc i ALWAYS have flashback to the time a guy told me to speak french in his ear while we were doin it bc i had said i took 4 years of it when we were flirtin and he thought that meant i was good and i just said apple juice in french and he came
Demi getting the shit scared out of her by a fan’s scream
A Katy Perry
It’s time to go out to play on the yard, I can judge by the stomping of feet outside my door and the cowbell’s ringing and the excited voices. But I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything. Instead, I curl tighter into a small ball in the uncomfortable bed, pulling the sheet over me. It’s cold and light and doesn’t keep me warm at nights, but it’s better than nothing. The stomping has stopped, I can now hear faint voices from downstairs, they’re getting dressed.
I breath in, wishing they’d just leave me in my room. Which is smelling rotten, by the way. The maids here don’t bother cleaning my room as much as the others’, it’s partly my fault though, I never speak to them. I don’t really speak to anyone. It’s not because I can’t, no, I learned talking over a year ago, when I was four. It’s because I don’t have anyone to talk to, and by now, I’m not even sure I can talk anymore.
My door opens and Mrs. McDowell steps in. I know it’s her, it’s always her. I close my eyes tightly, pretending I’m sleeping. It hasn’t worked in very long, but I always do it.
"I sacrifice in my love life and my social life, but those things will be there in three or four years. This is a really important time in my life. I can’t just be the girl who sang ‘I Kissed a Girl.’ I have to leave a legacy." - Katy Perry + 2014
I don’t find myself unattractive, but I also don’t find myself attractive. I feel like I’m just sort of here, not something that really grabs anyone’s attention. Sort of like a chair. Or maybe a lamp.
And then we have Katy:
I Really Want It
It’s too early in the morning for me to be up, and yet I am. Which certainly is odd, because I woke up all by myself, no Tamra was involved to shake me awake or throw a damned glass of cold water on my face. Well, actually I didn’t wake up, since I didn’t fall asleep, I only tossed around in the covers clinging to my body, suffocating me. The birds are squeaking outside and the sun is just starting to rise over the horizon over the Pacific somewhere to my left.
I am restless. In three days’ time, I’ll fly to Japan and then to Australia to promote my world tour. But oddly enough, having to travel isn’t what’s getting me restless, it’s that odd sensation in my chest, in my heart, although that sounds cheesy.
I’ve made myself a cup of coffee despite trying to cut down on the amount of caffeine I pour into myself, and now I’m just sitting by the spotless marble kitchen-counter, staring into the swirling blackness in my cup, postponing the phone call. But if I can’t even make myself make a phone call, how on earth would I manage to raise a child; all by myself?
I haven’t told anyone yet about my not being able to have a baby, my parents, no, they’d just start ranting about something, telling me it had to be a sign from God, that I just ‘wasn’t supposed to have kids’, my sister, I guess I could tell her. But she just had a baby, it would make it like I was criticizing her for having it, and I didn’t want to make her feel guilty, ‘cause God knows she would.