(no subject)
I can't bring myself to hangout with anyone at the moment.
Course, no one's really made any attempts either.
I want to just get out of here.
And go nowhere.
I just want the rapture to come right now.
Quick, someone fulfill all of the prophecies.
I'm terrified as of what's to come.
I got to school this morning and noticed coolant pouring from my radiator.
I lifted the hood and the power steering belt had cut the radiator hose clean in half.
It's done for.
I knelt down in the parking lot of the college and cried to my parents both on the phone.
I must have looked like a moron.
I'm just so frustrated that I'm out of a car with no reparation because of someone else’s heedlessness.
I gathered myself and went to class.
My Humanities teacher, who I don't know from Adam, held my hand and prayed for me after the session.
It meant a lot.
And now where am I?
Frustrated.
Disheartened.
Mentally exhausted.
I’m defenseless to say the least.
I've really been trying to pray at every obtainable moment.
Telling God I know He's in control and He's doing what He knows is best.
Which reminds me.
I'm reassured by humanity.
Someone can go out of his way to call me a hypocrite.
And analyze my life.
And tell ME how to take MY walk with God.
Yet he's the most duplicitous person I know.
A closet homosexual and a voracious child at the least.
You’re starved for attention to the point that you would do ANYTHING to get those at the top of the totem pole to perceive you.
I'm sorry, Ryan Pelham, that you have nothing better to do with your pitiable, scene-driven life than to go through my myspace pictures and post them on your journal as some sort of self-glorifying mockery of me.
But here's the deal.
It's sad that your only battle strategy... you know, aside from Daddy's money, is kicking people when they are down.
Grow up.
Disengage yourself form the scenic umbilical cord.
Sick Ashley and George Fellers on me again.
It should raise my spirits.
I love being amused by idiots.
And feel free to edit my grammar and spelling please.
Suck some guy off for Jesus, baby.
Megan
Course, no one's really made any attempts either.
I want to just get out of here.
And go nowhere.
I just want the rapture to come right now.
Quick, someone fulfill all of the prophecies.
I'm terrified as of what's to come.
I got to school this morning and noticed coolant pouring from my radiator.
I lifted the hood and the power steering belt had cut the radiator hose clean in half.
It's done for.
I knelt down in the parking lot of the college and cried to my parents both on the phone.
I must have looked like a moron.
I'm just so frustrated that I'm out of a car with no reparation because of someone else’s heedlessness.
I gathered myself and went to class.
My Humanities teacher, who I don't know from Adam, held my hand and prayed for me after the session.
It meant a lot.
And now where am I?
Frustrated.
Disheartened.
Mentally exhausted.
I’m defenseless to say the least.
I've really been trying to pray at every obtainable moment.
Telling God I know He's in control and He's doing what He knows is best.
Which reminds me.
I'm reassured by humanity.
Someone can go out of his way to call me a hypocrite.
And analyze my life.
And tell ME how to take MY walk with God.
Yet he's the most duplicitous person I know.
A closet homosexual and a voracious child at the least.
You’re starved for attention to the point that you would do ANYTHING to get those at the top of the totem pole to perceive you.
I'm sorry, Ryan Pelham, that you have nothing better to do with your pitiable, scene-driven life than to go through my myspace pictures and post them on your journal as some sort of self-glorifying mockery of me.
But here's the deal.
It's sad that your only battle strategy... you know, aside from Daddy's money, is kicking people when they are down.
Grow up.
Disengage yourself form the scenic umbilical cord.
Sick Ashley and George Fellers on me again.
It should raise my spirits.
I love being amused by idiots.
And feel free to edit my grammar and spelling please.
Suck some guy off for Jesus, baby.
Megan