Indeed. We are 17. How much longer can this possiby go on (and on and on)?
Huntsville hates me. This is a fact.
I am tired of you. Yes, you. So just stay away right now.
I feel terrible that someone out there is possibly angry at me. I feel terrible that my friend, one of the ones I wanted to see, feels as though I intruded. I'm sorry. Emails will be written. I say this as if its some sort of consolation prize. No. But its the only way that I know to make contact.
I met some humorous people this weekend.
I ignored someone and it was a highlight of the weekend. (In creepy voice:) Man. Those girls fucking hate me.
I kind of am not too fond of myself or my actions. I mean, well. No. I mean just that. I am tired of being this girl. I want to be that one. That kind. I want to make myself into the kind of girl who receives the kinds of boy that says things defensively like 'Why did you have to go and kiss her?' I fear that I am not her.
For now, I am no more than the girl in Me vs Maradona vs Elvis and the boy in Sic Transit. These were revelations made last night. Sad. But true stories.
No one can be blamed other than myself, however. I do it on my own and accept the consequences: being alone.
I have enjoyed making bracelets with random acronyms. NMR. MME. DP(star)BC.
Summer has come and its fading away.