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the 2nd semester sucks.
my favorite class got switched out of my schedule.

pop is soda, and soda is pop. you know they're the same, so grow up.
i don't call them periods because it's fucking annoying.
they're HOURS, and stop acting like i'm a fucking retard.

p.s. haha, no one cares.

these lies are leading me astray;
it's too much for me to stay.

this love, this hate, it's burning me away.

click once! click twice! click several times!
you don't even have to do it for me -
do it for animals in need.

i put too much stock in people.

you go run and tell your friends that i'm losing touch.

instincts are misleading;
you shouldn't think what you're feeling.
they don't tell you what you know you should want.

if you don't have enough time for me,
than forget it.

the only thing worse than not being loved
is being loved but not being able to feel it, at all.
because you know what you're missing and
you know how it could be better.

i'm not dead. i'm still here. don't forget me.
(i still need you.)

i need a gay friend that will hold my hand and give me hugs.

i can't compete with all your damn ideas.
i'd wait, but i'm too tired to play pretend...
i'll suffocate until the end.

my mom needs to realize
that even though i'm not fucking just like her,
i'm not retarded, or stupid, or weird.
stop making fun.