Reoccuring Dreams Suck
So, for the past few days I've had two reoccuring dreams in which he called. They have to be dreams. They feel like dreams. But they were good dreams. And I missed a history class cause I stayed up late and couln't sleep, then for my next class I couldn't get into the lecture cause I was thinking about it, and missed the entire fucking class. But oh well. I'm only a history major, what do I need us history for. I did this really bad ass black eye in make up class and made everyone think my boyfriend beat me. We're doing head wounds and wrist slashing next. I want a corset. And a vulture. And to have the body I did when I was anorexic. That'd be nice. Cause I love food and I don't think I could do that again. Maybe I'll just do coke. Because if you're going to be sexy enough that you're the only thing someone can get off to, then you'd better be uber fucking sexy. But, I'll never see him again so what does it matter? It really sucks when things really are too good to be true. Slainte.