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I’m bored.

I wish the world could be invaded by aliens.
Or have a robot uprising.
Or suffer from a zombie apocalypse.

Because I’m bored.
And the only cure is some life-at-risk, survival type drama bullshit.

I swear I’m sober right now.


broken office chair.

And now that we’re here, so far away.

I use.

And abuse.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore.
So tell me.

You’re a complete stranger.
But whatever you tell me to do…
It’ll be better than the fake bullshit I’m doing now.
can’t anybody tell me what to do?

My thoughts are broken.
My voice, complete.
But my words are shallow.
My actions, planned.

I couldn’t tell you what I did yesterday.
I can’t remember a damn thing.

If this is me normally…
Will I be more put-together on drugs?

ecstasy sounds good.
a very good place to start.

I can’t take chances.
because there aren’t any to take here.
I can’t risk anything.
This is my own personal hell.

I want to break glass.
Burn houses.
Crash cars.

why can’t i just live on the edge?
Where is the fucking edge?

All I want to say is that I love you and that I’m not afraid.

The music says what I feel.
What I want, but cannot utter.

if only you knew that all of my thoughts.
my complex thinking.
it’s all because of you.

But they all think I’m crazy.
Because I call myself crazy.

It’s okay though. We’re all alright.


Happy New Year.

What in the fuck am I gonna do this year.

For starters- try harder in school.
Damn, did I really blow my first semester of college off.
I barely made it by. I feel like such an idiot now.
Thank god, I didn’t fail anything.
My parents would have ripped my intestines out.

I’ve noticed that I’ve been getting a lot more violent lately.
I blame that on Skyrim.
Oops. Don’t care.

What else am I gonna do?
Act more responsible?
Ehh, debatable.
But lord knows I’m going to party more.
I need to get out of this house.
Wasting my life away on the internet and gaming.
They’re black holes sucking my life away.
But not blogging. No, never blogging…

And the big one.
The good ol’ meat and potatoes:
Actually, men.
I’d say that I’m going to be less picky.
Be more open to new people.
But I was always taught not to lie.
So fuck relationships.

Unless you’re British, Australian, Irish, Southern, or a celebrity…
nothing is happening, bro.

True story.

I should probably go to bed.
Yeah, fucking right.

I’m over this.

I’m sick of life.

I’ve been single for way too long. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to go out and have relationships with people, but I’m afraid that they’ll never be what I imagine them to be in my head. I was also just played recently… two-timing bastard. ┬áIt’s shitty because I had really liked the guy. This was our second time around talking, and I was becoming really comfortable with him, imagining that he was my ideal kind of guy for a relationship. Then reality hits and reminds me of why I’m going to be single forever. Ha. I think I’ll stick to my fantasy of marrying David Archuleta from now on. Surely he’s different from all the other guys I’ve liked. Oh, that’s right. He’s straight. Fml.

I’m sick of never wanting to go hang out with others, too. I always feel like the third wheel. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I don’t have a best friend anymore. Sure, I’ve grown close to a lot of people in the past few months, and I’ve confided quite a bit with these people- but I still don’t feel comfortable enough to show these people what I look like in sweatpants and my bedhead.

I’m not where I want to be. I feel like I’m living a life that isn’t mine anymore. It’s because I’m working two jobs now. I love Cold Stone; with a passion. I’m most likely going to cry when I have to leave. But my second job, at Bath & Body, isn’t what I want to be doing. They expect me to be so much more pushy in selling than I’m comfortable being. I’m the type of shopper that likes to be greeted and then left alone, but these guys… they want me to be all over the customers. Finding out what they like, suggesting other fragrances, leading them to different things across the store. I won’t be there much longer… the extra money is nice, but that’s a promise.

School is bullshit. I can’t help but wonder if this is even beneficial to me anymore. Especially now that I don’t have time outside of school because of work, I’m not getting a chance to sit down and study. Ha. That’s a joke anyway. I don’t have the motivation to study. I’m always so tired now. I don’t want to study when I finally have free time. I should have taken this semester off, but I know that I would probably never come back if that were the case. I could see myself enjoying my freedom too much.

Good, God. I want to leave. Not just this shit-hole town, or this shitty state. I want to get out of this fucking country. I’ve never had such a desire, or been more determined to go to Ireland than I feel right now. I don’t know what it is about moving to a different country that will cure my depressed-like state. The men there seem perfect, with their incredibly attractive accents and personalities. Curse the day I ever saw the movie P.S. I Love You. That shit made me believe that that country is where I’ll be finding the love of my life and escaping the troubles that I think I’m facing everyday.

I guess it’s kinda bullshit that the first thing I write when coming back is basically one giant rant. But I don’t give a fuck.


Sister Act.

[prompt] Have you ever received an amusing email, text, or voicemail message not intended for you?

Honestly, I’ve received quite a few- all by one lady.

The first time I actually got one from her was probably a year and a half ago, and she left a message on my voicemail starting “Hello, Sister Rosemary…”

She goes on about wanting to catch up with her and just saying hello and everything. I seriously thought someone was making a crank call and just decided to leave it on a voicemail when I didn’t answer. It was funny and I showed it to a few people, but I didn’t think about calling this person back or anything because I figured it was a one-time deal.

About a few months later I get another call, from the same lady! It kills me because I can’t remember her name. Sister… something. ANYWAY! She was calling for Sister Rosemary again! At this point I realized it wasn’t a crank caller anymore, but I was in poor reception when she called so it went straight to voicemail. It was funny because she was once again saying how she wanted to catch up with her. I didn’t call her back this time either, and I probably should have.

Finally, a few months after that, I managed to catch this lady’s call. I had explained to her that I wasn’t Sister Rosemary and I haven’t gotten another call from her to date (:

She probably just mixed up the phone number when she was dialing it a few times, because this number has been apart of our cell plan for 6+ years. Hahah. I just don’t know…

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pi day.

Math teachers should really celebrate pi day. I’m being 100% honest, right now.
I should have had a damn apple pie in front of my face fourth hour, but no- all I had were damn equations.

I’m really worried about something a person posted on my formspring about an hour ago. It’s driving me insane because there’s no way for me to help this person! I’d feel horrible if anything happened to them, knowing I had the chance to stop something reckless from happening.
I don’t know how to find this person, either- unless I update my status on facebook to something involving it, but I don’t think they’d appreciate that. Damn formspring’s anon option! (No, this blog does not count. Nobody ever really reads this except for me.)

perfect two.

You’re the apple to my pie,
You’re the straw to my berry.
You’re the smoke to my high,
And you’re the one I wanna marry.

Cause you’re the one for me, for me.
And I’m the one for you, for you.
You take the both of us, of us
& we’re the perfect two.

I’ve found my wedding song. Hahahah. Idgaf what anybody says- this song is love.