More updates on my semi-interesting life
My mom's best friend is dying of cancer. This is really difficult for me to see her like this. I'd rather it happen to someone else, not someone as beautiful and kind hearted as her. She was always the happiest woman, even if she was joking about her nagging husband. She nagged with charisma. It made me crack up. I'll say goodbye and I'll try not to cry.
San Luis was fun. I slept on a couch and ate bread for a week. Dumpster Diving. Jamming. Art. Trying to be serious with this guy, but noone takes me seriously. I got to spend a ridiculous amount of time with Sarah, which was nice because the notorious duo has been seperated for way too long. I was high every day, but I had nothing to do except smoke cigarettes and write songs and stare into the awkward eyes of this boy, Zach.
I heard he got hit by a car when we left. I felt bad for laughing. Then I heard the injury was pretty brutal. And then I felt extremely immature, which is allowed because I'm still in my teenage years of stupidity.
I broke up with this guy who I wasn't even officially going out with, but it's nice to have him out of my hair. I think I ended things in an amusing way. I tried to sound like a little kid, so he wouldn't feel bad about the loss. I was acting really dumb. I blame the beer.
I almost got a stick and poke of a mediocre idea that sounded really cool at the time. I'm so glad Sarah didn't have the ink. I'd rather my first be professionally done. I actually have a lot of respect for my useless body.
My job is pretty cool, but I'm sick of waking up super early on Saturday mornings because now I'm fucking tired as hell. Probably because I stayed out so late last night doing nothing. Actually, I spent a good couple of hours on this chatroom site with a bottle of wine to myself. I finally got out and met with my neighborhood friends for some reality show bonding time.
It's hard to be happy in this household. I can't wait for the sun to warm up my toes again. I want to go on way more roadtrips.
Also, no luck in trying to get famous.
San Luis was fun. I slept on a couch and ate bread for a week. Dumpster Diving. Jamming. Art. Trying to be serious with this guy, but noone takes me seriously. I got to spend a ridiculous amount of time with Sarah, which was nice because the notorious duo has been seperated for way too long. I was high every day, but I had nothing to do except smoke cigarettes and write songs and stare into the awkward eyes of this boy, Zach.
I heard he got hit by a car when we left. I felt bad for laughing. Then I heard the injury was pretty brutal. And then I felt extremely immature, which is allowed because I'm still in my teenage years of stupidity.
I broke up with this guy who I wasn't even officially going out with, but it's nice to have him out of my hair. I think I ended things in an amusing way. I tried to sound like a little kid, so he wouldn't feel bad about the loss. I was acting really dumb. I blame the beer.
I almost got a stick and poke of a mediocre idea that sounded really cool at the time. I'm so glad Sarah didn't have the ink. I'd rather my first be professionally done. I actually have a lot of respect for my useless body.
My job is pretty cool, but I'm sick of waking up super early on Saturday mornings because now I'm fucking tired as hell. Probably because I stayed out so late last night doing nothing. Actually, I spent a good couple of hours on this chatroom site with a bottle of wine to myself. I finally got out and met with my neighborhood friends for some reality show bonding time.
It's hard to be happy in this household. I can't wait for the sun to warm up my toes again. I want to go on way more roadtrips.
Also, no luck in trying to get famous.