I can commit to one person but not one group. I float, I float. This is why middle school kiled me. And i don't forget the awful things i do. and i don't forget the awful things that she did. and how i spent an entire summer under the covers and no one really did anything. and it was all because of that. some people are more important than others? I am not saying not me, I am just telling you what i see. but anyway, I'm making diagrams from my bed. venn diagrams. that barely overlap boys vs. boys vs. boys the ones I expect to love the ones I know the ones I have crushes on. makes me think about the nature of love. no no. the nature of crushes. in the american teen girl. and probably all over the world. I know what would happen if I kissed these boys: nothing, probably, in the long run. we'd end up further apart then when we started. the question is: is it worth it? would it even hurt us in the end? if it's not love... there is more and less danger. and more and less point. and I don't know how I feel about any of it. But it'd be nice to have someone to hug. my advice: don't care, love or hate because they do. and don't forgive as easily as me

sometimes, I walk past the "women's interest magazines" and wish I was a boy. weight loss cooking sex workouts miracles desperation children weight loss smiles skinny blonde haired smiles the worst section in the store uh. this week was... I just want someone to think I'm beautiful, and not be a middle aged woman.

The only way that I can ever be brutally honest Is when you're standing right in front of me, and neither of us have shoes on. I made this diary so that some stranger could know what i really feel. but i haven't said it yet, and this is my twelfth entry. I didn't know I was so guarded. I guess it makes sense. I'm not even entirely honest in my own journal. Only the shower knows what the fuck is going on. I sure as hell don't. God, life is beautiful.

.reteews hcum taht si gninaem eht dna

I have STILL not entirely figured out the whole bra hook thing. They are impossible.

they tell me i can't do anything if i don't get my grades up. what did the rest of the year mean? nothing? They won't take me to look at colleges. no NY, no Halifax, no Chicago, no FUCKING Quebec. No place i would ever want to go. Why? because "I would never get in" who would take the girl with the 3.3 overall? no one. never. they would hate me. And when i try to tell them that art school would never care that i had a few 70s in science, they tell me that I DON'T KNOW. I am obviously mistaken. I never know who to talk to. I... hate this world. none of it matters. and no one can see We can survive without it all. all the shit. When did people stop seeing that? WHEN? It seems like this entire world was made up by some man and the rest of us went along with it. I don't want to Fucking go along. I refuse to live someone elses dream to dream. I refuse to sit around in an office taking orders from a sweaty fat guy who can't even keep his marriage together. and oh why can't we talk? Why do we have to keep everything inside to save face. Keep everything inside until we die. There is no need for secrets. We are all human here. We all have regrets, mistakes, love, lust, and everything. We all have dreams. I don't fit in here. I just want one person i can really love. That's all. Just one. So that we can be selfish together. And terrorize other people's sad existances. [with our love] Meet me at the bus station July 2nd. I've got some money. We'll roll away into the night and never look back.

I hide everything. so people always leave when i need them most.

I don't know who to turn to. When I first started failing, I tried to turn to [J]. She said "good." Goddamn "good." and this girl calls her self my "best friend." But other than her, my friends fit into one of two extremes: overachiever____________________slacker. I tried to talk to my mom, who just sent me to the counsellor (who tried to get me to drop the few classes I can stand just because they're advanced.) and told my brother to tell me I needed to start caring(what a forced conversation that was!) I don't know. Now that I'm thinking about it, its not so much that I'm not doing well. To be honest, I could really care less. It's just that I have no one to turn to anymore. My friends are quick to come to me if they need someone to cheer them up. I don't think they realize that I'm not just the confident, quirky, girl with weird clothes. They don't realize I break too. Maybe it's my fault. Or maybe they're just selfish. I mean [J]- My Fucking Best Friend- will sit, eyes glazed, as I try to tell her what's going on with me. Then as soon as she can,she'll lauch into some woeful tale about how the fucking kid she has liked for 2 years and BARELY TALKS TO probably dosn't like her as much as she LOVES him. And that she's a failure. Or she'll just bring up some stupid show she would watch if she still had cable. Then I'm the "better" person. I hold it in and I try to care And give her the same advice for the 700th time (start up a conversation with the kid...) And I try to keep my voice under control when I see the proof yet again that my best friend would rather talk about FUCKING TELEVISION instead of trying to help her BEST FRIEND WHO IS CLOSE TO TEARS. her antics make me feel immature. why don't i start talking to [name] more? It's not her fault that I'm best friends with her. That she's the only one who knows all my secrets. That I like her when she's not being such a OHHGSDFHGOISHG. I'm exhausted. (met him in a hotel. I'm still alive)

! (for you.)

and never been kissed. how pathetic is that? I am about to jump the next moderately good looking boy I see.

second entry today. not a habit I want to get into. anyway, I was just looking at my previous entry and thought "oh no! I sound like a stupid emo fuck!" I mean, no offence to those fans of emo out there, it can be okay... I am just more of a stupid indie fuck; a fan of the Belle and Sebastian style whimsy. or Beck. or... the Electric Six. i don't even drink. but this right here is my "secret diary." I've got this other thing full of lovely stories and photos that have no relevance... and friends and about how I am going to see Ted Leo in a few weeks. But this is not that. It's just got to the point where I regret mixing my real and online lives. and also it gives me something else to procrastinate with.

I'm not depressed. Just so overworked and overwhelmed. Or maybe I am depressed. Maybe in a few months I will think about slitting my wrists. Maybe I'll start doing coke. Or maybe I just want to start my fucking life. Tonight I have to study for two tests in Chemistry tomorrow. I want to be an artist. It's all bullshit. Maybe instead I'll raid the liquor cabinet and then shower the whiskey off all night.

at this time of the month, I want to jump anything that moves.

I've liked him for a while. and the silly girl broke his heart. he asked if anyone knew happy bands. i said i'd make him a mix. I take great care with my mixes, but this one is killing me. how do you get that perfect blend? great titles beats lighthearted i like you but not too strong. you know?

(lies. I do not feel magical; I feel absolute.)