I've got a book of matches, a can of kerosene
I'm so angry. I can't express these thoughts even though I want to, because I realize I'm just being ridiculous.
I have more of a temper than I've ever realized. It's always shown up, but this time there's nothing for it to hide behind. I can see rationally why I shouldn't care at all, but I have this burning sensation of anger in my stomach. It's not like this feeling is foreign to me, it's just that I'm finally in a situation where it's all my fault.
Maybe it's just because of the lack of structure my life has right now that causes my relentless and irrational irritations. Maybe I'm just a psycho bitch at heart, and I've done a damn good job of hiding it from myself and my friends with excuses and blame games.
I'm dying inside a little bit right now. I miss my friends. I miss Hastings. I miss high school. I want to go back to the life I had senior year, juggling work and friends and extra-curricular activities (as Mr. Allan designated them). I miss being sane. I thought I was more mature, but obviously I'm still the same old me.
I have more of a temper than I've ever realized. It's always shown up, but this time there's nothing for it to hide behind. I can see rationally why I shouldn't care at all, but I have this burning sensation of anger in my stomach. It's not like this feeling is foreign to me, it's just that I'm finally in a situation where it's all my fault.
Maybe it's just because of the lack of structure my life has right now that causes my relentless and irrational irritations. Maybe I'm just a psycho bitch at heart, and I've done a damn good job of hiding it from myself and my friends with excuses and blame games.
I'm dying inside a little bit right now. I miss my friends. I miss Hastings. I miss high school. I want to go back to the life I had senior year, juggling work and friends and extra-curricular activities (as Mr. Allan designated them). I miss being sane. I thought I was more mature, but obviously I'm still the same old me.