I breathe and live for the therapists pumping through my speakers
I assume no one is reading my journal rather than my online friends, so I'm safe. Whatever.
Straight from my notebook:
SS is officially HELL whenever we finish learning a chapter. It's like telling someone non-athletic and has never did rock climbing in her life go all the way to the top of the wall.
WHY AM I SO FUCKING PASSIVE?! This is why I hate reaction papers and the like. I wish I could just answer with "I don't have to anything to say I'm completely satisfied with it and I DON'T CARE."
Worse, presenting to the class. I will fucking pass out. Well, I'll die of nervousness that's for sure. I sure don't have that type of ailment that faints when given the spotlight.
I wish I don't care what they think about me, but I do.
Can I skip this chapter?
Can there be a loophole for immigrants?
Can I be absent on Tuesday and Friday?
Can you delay the deadline?
I wouldn't bet on it.
LA and SS sucks sometimes =(
And I'm being undertaught in Math, which pisses me off so bad.
I wish Citrine was my SS partner.
Or maybe Nelda or Darlene.
Anyone. I need someone.
There is no one.
I am alone in this. Even my dad says it.
I wish I was home. My real home.
This place never will be.
I wish I was back at the school I was in all my life.
I should've fought harder to stay there to finish HS.
I wish I have more time.
(Being childish and lazy sorry.)
I wish my dad wouldn't think of this notebook as fucking useless.
because he just did. [insert profanities here]
I wish there was somebody that could encourage me.
I wish I have a friend here that really clicks.
I wish I could study trigo with the guys... (ok, maybe not, but still, you ge tthe point, I miss my special class)
I wish I didn't feel like I'm not good at anything.
I wish...
(oh, and I got a little bit too emo, I'll never have the guts to kill myself, so don't worry xD)
It's useless. I'm useless.
I feel no significance whatsoever.
Family. They're getting distant.
Old friends. They don't respond.
New friends. I don't think they would care either.
I only breathe for the therapists pumping through my speakers.
I'd do it. I'd live. For them.