wi ld blue
i have recently accepted the fact that i don't give a shit about anything anymore. sunday night i went to go see brand new (FINALLY) and it was probably one of the best expirences of my life. i cried when they got on set. i was so happy, i can't even begin to descibe it. play crack the sky, the no seatbelt song, millstone, you won't know...amazing. when he ran into the light screaming for air, breathing into the mike, sweat plastered against his face i just stopped. i don't even remember the encore, olivia had to pull out of the crowd... i was so high, i just wanted to run away as far as possible. to get away from this town, these people and start over. i want to live life, i want to be free, i want to have endless possibilities stretched out in front of me so i can just chose and not have to worry anymore. i don't want to worry anymore, i just want to live, baby. i just want to live...
and i saw jesse and he smiled, he smiled real big like he knew. maybe he knew. maybe he was drunk. maybe i was just pretending for the sake of it. whatever.
but when he looked out into the audience, his eyes opened up and i think he knew.
i blew him a kiss.
i visited purchase on saturday with ellenbellon. i feel like i'd fit in real good and i'd have real fun and i wouldn't have to pretend to be myself there. i can't tell you how bad i just want to get out. i've decided that i will take the car constantly without permission and just go where i want when i want.
i'm done listening.
i'm done caring.
i want to live and i feel like i only have only a few more months, a few more hours to really get it done. i've wasted half my life caring about everyone else and what they think. i want to waste the rest of my life caring about me and what i think. if i want to have fun. i will.
i have to.
oh
and i'm done caring about what mrs. marinelli thinks about how smart we all are and how freggin brilliant. like we're child gods. i'm not a child god. i don't think any of us are.
and i'm sick of her constant nonsense, who cares.
why can't we just write about what's real. all this analytical bullshit is just too much.
i find it real disturbing that a kid who hasn't read a single page of the text can get an 8/9 on his paper, every time, all the time. the more i think about it, the more of a monster i think she is.
the more of a monster i think we all are.