I don't remember why I kept feeling the need to cut. Over and over. Everytime I was done, I'd think that was it. I'm not doing it anymore. I have to let it heal. I can't have scars. And then I'd do it again. Sometimes over the same cut, sometimes on new skin ( Read more... )

I don't know who to take with me to the fucking hockey game. My dad's selling his tickets. They're fucking VIP, suite and all. Mine's just row 13.

What the f*ck fuck ever.

If we came from a big bang, where did the elements come from to form that bang?

Jessica told me that she does believe in God, but she doesn't believe He formed us with His hands in His image. "God sprinkled or maybe threw the elements into the air and overtime, BIGGBBANG."

So He created us. But He can't tell us what to do.

The holidays are nearing, and I must get my father some gloves.

A time to kill, a time to heal. I pick, a time to heal. I've been through enough, and I can't make the world any worse than what it is right now. What the fuck am I trying to say?

I just turned in a big project, and I feel accomplished.

Is hockey a fun sport to watch live?

I finally got my computer last night. And I got my printer/scanner/copier today. So hopefully I'll be doing some serious updating. My ass ( Read more... )

I'll fucking kill my brother. My blood boils to kill him. I FUCKING HATE HIM.

Cockatiel's are sweet birds.

Fucking decapitate my brother.

Tuesday = Cedar Point ( Read more... )