I've become addicted to Xanga. Not as bad as some...but it made me forget this one.

I got a haircut yesterday. It's...different. I like it.

Condemn me to death already. Choke me. Hit me. Do something. Anything. I don't want to feel this anymore. Of course I put myself here, so I deserve it. Or maybe I'll just writhe in teen angst...haha...that's dumb. This whole crock of shit reeks of cheesy teenage baloney. At least poke me in the eye. Make sure I'm alive every once in a ( Read more... )

You can just fuck off. I hate you...every last damn one of you. I want to die, and I'm serious as a heartattack.

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(13)--

auction paddle...or whatever. a certain person needed one. but he hates my guts.

flaming hunters call
irrelevent from the last
I want a pony
but not to be lost

Please...someone tell me...what do I mean by that?

Had a dream. It bothered me...bothered me a lot. I suppose the fact that it bothered me so much is why I remember parts of it. It involved my brothers...at District. Some of them were telling me to just give up and talk to him. And I did. We talked...rather, argued...and were so angry and violent with words, the others left us alone. Why ( Read more... )

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I think I fucked up my finger (middle left). Hooray for playing volleyball at 2:30am with a drunk guy and sorority girls!

Nope...that's it. Nope...that's everything. That's all that I've got. I love The Used. I love both of my bigs. I love my Krystal. I love my Renee. I love my Rochelle. I love my sisters. I love my brothers. I love B...regardless of what I tell him. I can't hate him. And I miss him. More than my life before college. And I miss that a