too bad i'm immature.
theres a light on in the house down the road, and i don't know if it's really a light or a cry for help. it's the only light on in the house, and i worry about the girl who lives there, the poor poor girl that lives there. i worry that she waits all day and stares at the screen that i can see from the road, computer or television, and waits for her father to come home, and when he does arrive home, he forgets she even exists and doesn't care about her. and then i began to worry that if maybe people at school didn't think she was so weird that she wouldn't have suicidal thoughts. maybe if she had some friensd somewhere, her father wouldn't matter, and she wouldn't wait for his approval, but i'll never know. i'm too big of a wuss to make the unpopular decision and actually have a conversation with her.