immature, ungrateful,

are only a couple of my favorite words.

you use some things so much, you often tend to get attached.

Sorry, Mexican girl.. :/

So today,
this Mexican girl came up behind me just before 5th period,
and she's like, "HEY,"
so I turned around and she looks at me and goes,
"you have a red dot on the back of your pants."
she looked like a bitch, and plus, I went pee during 3rd and I wasn't on my period, so I gave her like, a death stare and went into class.
but as I sat there, I was just thinking,
oh SHIT.
so I sat all uncomfortable during history,
and texted Samie and told her what had happened.
she told me she'd look after 5th and I was like, okay.
so after class, I booked it out the door to Samie,
and she completely like, examined my butt,
but she was quiet the whole time, so I was scared shitless.
then when she finally said, "did she mean THIS?"
I look down at the back of my pants,
and suddenly I realize,
that the big red dot-sticker from my subway wrapper I had at lunch
was stuck to the back of my leg..

If not fresh, better?

I'm finally in the mindset
to start again.
to start on what I hardly finished before.
to start on what I never meant to do wrong,
but to finally do right and not stop in the middle.
If I were you, I'd be looking at this,
over analyzing, like I always seem to do.
but for what seems like the first time,
this is blatantly about..what it's about.
there's not a more simple way to put it.
I mean, think about it:
what sticks out, to you, about me the most?
I don't know if I should apologize for it not being there anymore, when it decides to go.
most of it is already gone, which I both blame and thank a single person for.
but the rest needs to go.
say bye, you guys.

oh dear,
my confidence scares me.

Fridays

These may be the last days we'll be able to spend together as a group.
I mean,
I already see it starting to change.
People have work.
There's many of us being added and subtracted as the weeks go by.
We're changing, it's obvious.
But let's please just be happy together, all of us.
Like we are now. Today. Another Friday.
Another movie night like the past few weeks have been spent.
You don't know how happy my new and old friends have made and ARE making me.
Keep it coming.

No, you make sense.

I write when I'm asleep.
I sleep while I write.
When I write, I'm so awake.
The most vivid dream I've had was the dimmest.
I always dream of what I want.
I have everything I've never dreamed of.
I never will.

My whole life, I've had my eyes open.
I can't not watch.
It's compulsive, obsessive, but ever so orderly.
There's a way out, but my eyes don't want it.
I've been fighting sight forever, but it's still been perfect to me.
That happens too much.
I need to stop seeing.

Scratch.
I keep trying to remove what bothers.
It subsides.
The good friends always tend to relieve the itch.
You're funny when you're scared.
It's disgusting.
Though it's really not.

The other blog, the other day.

Well, I've been brought to it, yes I have.
This will be unusually short and simple.
Why do people freak out over things constantly?
Do I? No.
And do I have "drama" in my life?
No.
Think about it.
Reasonable formula for drama, or lack thereof:
Someone says something+you freak out→you say shit→people talk shit/the word gets out→someone gets pissed=drama
or the much more simple solutions would be
Someone says something→go fucking talk to them about it in a mature and calm fashion→either you'll be okay, or you'll realize who your real friends are=problem solved
orrr
Someone says something+you get over it=no drama.
yeah.
so now, you want to live your life, uhh, how?

Just me?

I'm not sure. I don't think I should be the only one. But then again, if there was someone else who was like me, don't you think I would have found them already? I think so. So maybe it is just me.
Here's what I mean:
Sometimes I feel like I'm the only normal person out of everyone I know. I take that back, not person, but entity, in the emotional sense. I've learned to not to care about the things that used to get to me most. I'm so glad most of you don't know about my past. I was so disgusting and sensitive. But that's not me anymore. Which brings me back to my point; I think I've killed all those parts of me that were entryways to letting things get to me.
It's funny..
Everyone used to compare me to my brother. Being SO sensitive. And as time passes by, on and on, they seem to compare less and less. Actually, now that I think of it, they don't do it at all. Because unlike my brother NOW, I can finally let things go. I do more than let them go, rather. I actually forget them. I pull out the part of me that I always hated in people and apply it to my sense of emotion that would have normally pressured me into fits of complete depression and/or personal insubordination.
Ignorance.
I hate what I need to get through life happily.
Not the form of common ignorance that, let's say, preschoolers or racists have.
Hah, I just compared 4-year-olds to illiberal, prejudiced, narrow-minded nazis, for lack of a better word.
Mm, but as I was saying. Ignorance. My ignorance is the kind that resides in whatever enclosure embodies my sense of feeling. It's like, if I get insulted, rather than crying or lashing out, (although I still call for sympathy at certain times.. but shut up, who doesn't? no one DOESN'T want attention. which brings me to another blog, another day..) I just act like I don't even know what happened. I rarely use the words "fuck you," nor do I "talk shit." It'll hurt for a second, but then I'm usually over it.
Thus, compare how I feel to the quick removal of a band-aid, or a shot.
Boom. Ouch. Over.
Hm.
Oh yeah, but in those long-term situations, where I'm at risk for losing someone close to me, or something has a potential chance of disrupting my path of life, then GUARANTEE that I'm prepared to have a talk with you, or whoever is involved in the circumstance previously stated.
Oh dear.
I wonder how many people wonder who actually reads these things.
Oops,
one more.