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How funny it is that I remember my password to log into my school account when it's about four years old.
I've missed this place,but I hate it more than I've missed it.
What a stupid idea it was to take a creative writting class.
I hate remembering the past.
It brings me to the present.
Where the fuck is the future?
I think it's hidding.
I'm in the library typing away.
Type.Type.Type.
I'm hungry and I don't feel good.
I might pass out,but I only have this period and next to get through.
Body please give out on me then.
I like my periods it's just the periods that I have off that I might commit suicide over.
There is nothing to do third period except hang out with caitlin and walk around.
Fourth is lunch and everyone has off then,so that's fine.
Sixth I just want to put a bullet through my forehead because there is nothing to do,but sit here and think and type.
I don't like thinking,but at the same time I love it.
I swear to god.
Everytime I don't talk to him I miss him,but everytime I talk to him I get sad knowing that he's not mine.
If I lived closer would it make a difference?
It's funny how he doesn't know that I was willing to change my senior year,so I could go to the college and work to make money to go see him every weekend.
Would she do that for you?
She's only an hour away.
I'm three.
Devotion sucks when what you are devoted to is hopeless.
My stomach hurts and I can feel my feet going numb.
I want to barf out my brain and lungs.
I need to stop smoking,but damnit they trick my mind into thinking that it will be okay.
It will all be okay.
I don't need this.
I don't need him.
I can move on.
I'll force myself to.
To bad that this streak of strength will be gone in a matter of minutes.
I hate my heart and my feelings.
I want to cut them out and choke them until they are blue.
I feel like I'm blue all the time deep down.
What can I do?
Nothing,so I'll continue to sit here and do nothing and just barely get by.
I've missed this place,but I hate it more than I've missed it.
What a stupid idea it was to take a creative writting class.
I hate remembering the past.
It brings me to the present.
Where the fuck is the future?
I think it's hidding.
I'm in the library typing away.
Type.Type.Type.
I'm hungry and I don't feel good.
I might pass out,but I only have this period and next to get through.
Body please give out on me then.
I like my periods it's just the periods that I have off that I might commit suicide over.
There is nothing to do third period except hang out with caitlin and walk around.
Fourth is lunch and everyone has off then,so that's fine.
Sixth I just want to put a bullet through my forehead because there is nothing to do,but sit here and think and type.
I don't like thinking,but at the same time I love it.
I swear to god.
Everytime I don't talk to him I miss him,but everytime I talk to him I get sad knowing that he's not mine.
If I lived closer would it make a difference?
It's funny how he doesn't know that I was willing to change my senior year,so I could go to the college and work to make money to go see him every weekend.
Would she do that for you?
She's only an hour away.
I'm three.
Devotion sucks when what you are devoted to is hopeless.
My stomach hurts and I can feel my feet going numb.
I want to barf out my brain and lungs.
I need to stop smoking,but damnit they trick my mind into thinking that it will be okay.
It will all be okay.
I don't need this.
I don't need him.
I can move on.
I'll force myself to.
To bad that this streak of strength will be gone in a matter of minutes.
I hate my heart and my feelings.
I want to cut them out and choke them until they are blue.
I feel like I'm blue all the time deep down.
What can I do?
Nothing,so I'll continue to sit here and do nothing and just barely get by.