OK losers...

http://tabitha86.livejournal.com is now in session. _twat_ is officially dead.

It's been snowing since about 9pm last night (or, the night before I guess. I suppose it's morning now). The snow is so beautiful. The snowflakes are huge and it's sooo light but there's so much of it and it's amazing. So white and pure, undisturbed. The snow plows are stuck so it's quiet. Everyone's in bed or studying, and Mike, Lauren, Manjot and ( Read more... )

I don't know what my problem is. Class starts in an hour and I just woke up, and now I'm sitting here on my bed writing about how I'm sad that I'm not going to class ( Read more... )

She wishes she could find a way to sit so that her stomach didn't hurt so bad from the butterflies. It's that feeling you get when you remember something really good, or get really anxious or unsure about something. Her stomach flips and flips and flips again because she's so easily drawn in by these things. She has an addictive personality, she ( Read more... )

Pretty sure it's done and won't ever be the same. When I look at it though, I can't really say I'm disappointed.

"We think it was God's plan and we're going to have to pick up the pieces and keep going"That, my friends, is a direct quote from a newspaper report about the school shooting that took place in Amish country in Pennsylvania. And I have a qualm. It's huge: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? I'm sorry. I'm agnostic, and I try to believe in God. I believe there's ( Read more... )

i just have to say, i can't wait to get back to london where she can't fucking get mad at me for taking a nap at 5:30 on a saturday night. good lord.

I'M SORRY IF I'M TIRED..

what the hell is that about? waking me up...psshht.

sometimes i wonder if it's done and i don't want it to be, or if it's not done and i want it to be. other times i just think i have a thirst for drama and create it so i can feed off of it. other times i just think you're an asshole ( Read more... )

"You're disgusting."

Everything fucking pisses me off. I don't know where I wish I was right now. Not London. Not here, that's for DAMN sure. California maybe. By myself. I want to go away and never come back.

I pretend I’m angry at you. It feels like everything beneath the surface of my skin is tightly wound together into one powerful source of unidentifiable emotion. I label it as “anger” and my external behaviour reflects that. Adding fuel to the fire, you don’t even know, or care. When you’re not there, I act like I would be strong, or at least tell ( Read more... )