I Shouldn't Even Post This
I'm over-tired. I'm cranky. I'm stressed. I'm fifteen. I have a damned right to be unresonable. I'm allowed to cry because my father isn't excited that the church choir is playing Carnegie Hall and wants me in it. I'm allowed to wonder what would happen if I had a one night only performace that conflicted with tickets to a big game. I'm allowed to hate myself for having such bitchy thoughts. I feel like such a failure when I curse. I started to blend in a little more. Now I can't stop. Now I cuss too much. Damn asswhole hypocrite.
I want a Prince Charming or at least an interesting frog. But I have friends who are very supportive of me. I wonder if I'm supportive enough of them. I have family that loves me unconditionally. Family that I should learn to appriciate while they're still around. I still feel lonely.
I lost a lot of stock in the world when I stopped being cute. When my neck became too long and I got curves. The curves don't seem to matter. I flirted with the eighteen-year old operator of the go karts. He liked my crazy pants. I had a great night. I still don't feel cute.
I'm not going to post this where anyone I know can see. Only my online friends. The people who clicked the friend button because they wanted silly stories about high school and some general ranting. None of you signed up for this. But I'm going to post it anyway. I'm not even going to use an lj cut.
I hope I feel better in the morning. Because crying's only refresing for the first minute. I'm such a freak. Salt water shouldn't be refreshing outside of the ocean.
I want a Prince Charming or at least an interesting frog. But I have friends who are very supportive of me. I wonder if I'm supportive enough of them. I have family that loves me unconditionally. Family that I should learn to appriciate while they're still around. I still feel lonely.
I lost a lot of stock in the world when I stopped being cute. When my neck became too long and I got curves. The curves don't seem to matter. I flirted with the eighteen-year old operator of the go karts. He liked my crazy pants. I had a great night. I still don't feel cute.
I'm not going to post this where anyone I know can see. Only my online friends. The people who clicked the friend button because they wanted silly stories about high school and some general ranting. None of you signed up for this. But I'm going to post it anyway. I'm not even going to use an lj cut.
I hope I feel better in the morning. Because crying's only refresing for the first minute. I'm such a freak. Salt water shouldn't be refreshing outside of the ocean.