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Mon, Jan. 18th, 2010, 07:07 pm

Eric is a fucking asshole.  I just have to get  it out.  What he did to Nikki was fucking dirty and he is honestly a piece of garbage.  I hope his new woman comes to realize how much of a worthless tramp he is. 
Nikki has always been a little filled with anxiety and a little depressed since we were young and she came to me telling me how lately she's back into cutting and she's thinking about drugs and how she can't get suicide off of her mind.  NOBODY should be like that.   And I know that it's easy to say that she's dramatic and that she just needs to tell herself no, but not everyone is as strong as the rest of us.  And Nikki is the one who lets me see that.  The girl is a mess.  And I hate seeing my friends like that.  
It's so hard for me not to message Eric or his new bitch and tear them both a new one.  Fuck that. 

Wed, Jan. 13th, 2010, 02:39 am

I found it really hard to sleep the past couple of nights, so last night I decided to write about something that I love.  This sounds really queer I know, but it honestly puts me into a better mood and helps me fall asleep at night.   I'm not an author or a poet or anything like that, so I know that my writing isn't quality and I know that it isn't incredible.  But I figure I'll post it on here anyway, just to get it off of paper and have it on my computer come the chance I want to go back to it.  You don't have to read it. 

Here's to laughing until it fucking kills you.  Here's to laughing until it hurts, or better yet, because it hurts. Here's to laughing because you know that laughter IS the best medicine.  Because the only cure for a shitty day and an even shittier night is a super fucking good laugh.  So, here's to the good ones.  The loud ones, the quiet ones. Here's to the laughs that make you clutch your chest because happiness is stealing your oxygen.  Here's to the laughs that leave your face red, blue, purple, white.  Here's to the laughs that liberate you. The laughs that escape you when you finally realize that some things are just out of your control.  They're not in your hands.  Here's to the spit-sputtering, tear-jerking laughs that you bellow out when reality smacks you in the face for the first time and you realize that life is a huge fucking bitch.  Here's to the laugh you let out when you find out that life is the bitch that never fucking stops stabbing you in the back, but it's out of your hands. So what can ya do? You can laugh.   Here's to the laugh of relief.  That laugh that only yourself hears when you learn that your boss isn't really going to fire you.  That soft chuckle that escapes your mouth when you find out that your boyfriend wasn't cheating on you, he was late because he was picking up flowers for you.  How sweet. Here's to the laughs of confusion.  The laugh that unexpectedly pops itself out of your mouth when you learn that your boyfriend actually bought the flowers for another girl, but you happened to be home when you stopped in. That laugh that says, "Ha, I should have known!" When in reality you're questioning everything you ever did, wondering why you're not good enough. You are good enough.   Here's to a special laugh.  My favorite of the laughs in fact.  Here's to the laugh of revenge.  The vindictive grin that peels itself across your face, followed by that burst of hard, eruptive, laughter that could put stitches in your aching sides.  Fuck yeah, those are the best.  Those laughs don't lie.  So here's to 'em!  Here's to the laugh that you almost scream when you learn that the bitch that fucked your boyfriend has herpes. That's "Ha-ha Motherfucker!" laugh that you crack open when you realize that the cheating bastard will forever live his now lonely life with genital warts.  And here's to the laugh of celebration.  That laugh that parades around your lips when you make sure to let everyone know about your ex man-sluts run in with a sexually transmitted disease.  How's that for sexy? Oh wait, it's not.   Here's to the embarrassing laughter.  You know, when you drool all over your chin, or that unexpected, uncontrollable laughter that causes you to spew liquids out of both nostrils, while some dribbles out of the corners of your mouth.  Here's to laughing even after your face is red with embarrassment, because we all know that it was still funny as shit.   And finally, here's to the most genuine of the laughs.  Here's to the laugh of complete, beautiful, and true happiness.  The laugh that you let out when you feel as if your heart is about to explode, sending fragments of love, joy, hope and peace into the air.  Here's to that laugh of happiness being the most beautiful of things.   There's no harm in good laughter.  So shut up, sit down, throw your head back, and fucking laugh. 

Sat, Jan. 9th, 2010, 10:11 pm


Life in a nutshell.

Mon, Jan. 4th, 2010, 01:42 am

I need to stop blaming past people and situation for the insecurities that I hold today.  This is my fault. 

Thu, Dec. 31st, 2009, 03:28 pm

Well, fuck 2009.
Here's to 2010. 
My goal for this evening - Get so drunk that I can't even recognize my own face in a mirror.
Don't hate.
Happy New Year.

Sat, Dec. 26th, 2009, 05:35 pm

This is what I love. 

I love to laugh. I love those belly-ache, knee-slapping, pee-your-pants, hard-to-breathe laughs that leave you red in the face for minutes afterward. I love the laughs that are impossible to control. You know, the kind where you know you shouldn’t be laughing or when you’re alone in a quiet place and something pops into your mind and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself. Yeah, I love those. I really, really love to be happy. Not “flash me a cheesy smile” happy, but genuinely happy. The kind of happiness you feel when everything just seems to be going absolutely wonderful for you. I love the summertime. I love driving at two in the morning in the middle of July in a car filled with too many of my good friends through a town that’s too small for the group of us. I love getting lost in those moments. I love knowing that in those moments, nothing else matters. Not shitty grades, shitty boyfriends, shitty friends or shitty jobs. I love knowing that the kids sitting next to you in that moment are all that you need to be happy. I love real friends. I love real people. I love when things are told as they are. I love when people don’t feel it’s necessary to water things down to save someone a little bit of dignity. What’s dignity? Tell it like it is. I love a good story. I love discovering something that completely infatuates me. Discovering a book that allows me to think outside the box. A book that is so distorted and disgusting that I can’t put it down no matter how much I want to vomit. Or discovering a band that’s lyrics say everything that I’ve ever wanted to say but could never find the words to do it. I love awkwardness. I love the moments before a first kiss where neither person knows whether to make a move, but they both know that the other is thinking the same exact thing. I love when that move is finally made. I love the butterflies. I love the feeling that you get where you know that because of that move, you’re getting yourself into something big. And I love being okay with that. I love being okay. I love being laid-back. I really enjoy brushing things off. I love seeing people get into petty arguments with one another and act like the world needs to come to a screeching halt because their problems need to be dealt with. I love laughing at these people. I love that they’re ridiculous. I love being ridiculous. I love being so ridiculous that people are embarrassed by me. I love when I embarrass myself. I love when my family embarrasses me. I love my family. I love that I live with only my mother and my brother. And I love the bond that we share together. I love watching my little brother grow up. I love talking to him. I love my mother’s heart. I love my mother for not giving up on me when I was a demon child. But really, a demon. And I love my mother for not giving up on our family, even when money was tight. I love sitting in my living room on a Saturday night with my mom and brother, break dancing and pretending we can beat box when it’s very, very clear that we cannot. I love that my mom has no shame. I love that my mom has taught me to have no shame. I love acting out in ways that no one else would ever do in fear that they’d be judged. So what? It’s okay to look like a lunatic. It’s okay to be a lunatic. At least you’re interesting. I love nonsense. I love memories. I love that I peed my pants in Mighty Taco because I was laughing so hard. I love respect. I love meeting someone that I truly respect. Someone that demands respect for all the right reasons. Not because they’re older, not because they feel that they deserve it, but because they actually do. Because they’re experienced. Because they’re wise. Because they’re respectable. I love laughing at people who truly believe that it’s possible to be in love with someone they’ve just met. That’s impossible. I love that I have never been in love. I love that people make it out to be so wonderful. I love knowing that I have something like that to look forward to. And I love knowing that even if it isn’t as great as they all say, that I won’t be disappointed. I love that it’s difficult to disappoint me. I love that it’s difficult to make me genuinely upset. I love that when McDonalds is closed, I feel genuinely upset. I love that I love McDonalds too much for my own good. I love the world. I love culture. I love knowing that there is so much going on all around me that I’ll never understand. I love the mysterious. I love uncertainty. I love patience. I love personality. I love getting to know someone who has a story to tell. Someone that can sit me down and talk to me for hours without losing my focus. This is difficult. I love that I can never focus. I love not focusing. I love getting lost in a daydream that is completely irrelevant to anything that is actually happening at that point in time. I love overcoming adversity. I love watching people overcome their own adversities. I love seeing people improve their lives for the better for themselves. Not because the authorities forced them, not because their mom told them to and not because it was necessary to get a job. But because in their heart they wanted a change, and they did it. I love that. I love laying in the middle of floors all by myself. Getting lost in thought. I love thoughts. I love imagination. I love creating situations in my mind that I wish would happen. The best is when they do happen. I love rugby. I love everything about that game. I love the violence, the sweat, the blood, the pre-game nerves, the big hits, the big plays. I love it all. I love standing in a circle with my team, telling ourselves that we can do it. I love when we do it. I love watching an offload that leads to a try. I really love that. I love coming back to win twenty-two to twenty after being down by seventeen in the first half. Seeya RPI! I love that Blackhorse rugby is going to Boston for regional championships. I love Blackhorse rugby. I love that I love a sport more than I’ve loved some people. I love verbal confrontation. I love arguments. I love people that make assumptions. And I love proving them wrong. Or punching them in the face. I love finding commonalities between people and myself. I love understanding that everyone I know is searching for one common thing. We all want happiness. It’s what we’re all fighting for. I love that life is teaching me how to live. Teaching me that you can’t make someone love you. That quantity is a lot less important that quality. And that if you ever plan on going anywhere in life, you have to be willing to take a hit. Or a few. I love that there’s so much more to learn. I love that there’s so much more that I want to say. I love that I am responsible for the person that I want to be. I love that I control who I become. Not my mom, not my dad, not you, just me. I love this life.

Tue, Dec. 15th, 2009, 01:35 am

I talked with Nicole.

"you on the other hand are someone i spend ALL of my time with, that i would be more than happy to be with for a very long time. but you need to let me be with you. you're trying to push me away and i'm not going anywhere. and that's all there is too it. because no matter how much you piss me off and how mad at you i get, everything tells me to be with you. the feelings i have for you and the feelings i know you have for me are more inmportant than your stubborn attitude towards relationships. so you can push and shove as much as you want but i'm standing my ground. i'm not going anywhere. and you don't have to believe me. cause like i said. you're stubborn. but you'll see."

I still don't feel better.

Mon, Dec. 14th, 2009, 09:33 pm

I think that I'm part psychotic. I don't know what it is! It's like every time I start to care about someone, I push them away. I don't know how to explain it. Like... I am constantly afraid of being hurt. I feel like I should blame Steve or my Dad or Mike, all of the people that I trusted and broke down my walls for who ended up fucking me over in the long run, but I think I'm tired of blaming everyone else. I constantly make assumptions and my jealously is like... through the roof. I don't wanna say that I'm scared, but I think I am. Like, I was laying in bed with Nicole talking about just stuff and she was like, "Do you always see the bad in everyone? Do you think everyone is out to get you?" and It made me think... yeah I do! I'm so terrified of being the one left behind for bigger and better things. I feel like there's so many more things out there that are better than me and I feel like they can be taken from me in the blink of an eye because I'm not the type to fight for someone I want. If you walk away, I'll let you. I'll tell myself that what you're doing is for a reason and that's the way life is going to be. When will I learn to stop worrying and accept everything as it is? I worry that my worrying (ha) and all my accusations are going to drive away the ones I really care about. I feel like I'm making no sense and I probably am not... but I'm stuck right now and I'm not sure what to do. I don't know where things are going and I don't know what's happening. Could prob use some advice, but I don't know who to go to for it. Ah well, I guess that's life.

Wed, Dec. 2nd, 2009, 03:22 pm

Ha, really?

Mon, Nov. 30th, 2009, 10:38 pm

I really need to learn to talk things out with people, it actually does help a lot. Thanks Sam.
So, once again... allow me to complain about Laura. Laura sent me a text saying "sausage egg mcmuffin"... which means that she's having sex and I shouldn't come back into the room. So I was like, oh alright. And Abby, Nicole, Stef and I were talking in Abby's room about pretending to walk in on them and joke around and how Kristi down the hall had heard her before and it was funny. So, I walk out of Abby's room... to Laura walking into my room saying "Oh...we're not going to do it anymore... I heard you guys talking about walking in"... Laura sent me that text and then ran to Abby's room to LISTEN THROUGH THE DOOR about what we'd say about her. What? Psycho. Abby texted her and was like "Were you listening through our door?" and Laura made up some gay excuse. But really? If you're gonna have sex... you're gonna do it... 5 in the afternoon, people are going to hear you.. can you get over it? It's NOT that big of a deal. Don't act like we haven't had sex in the SAME room at the SAME time before (NOT RECENT). Why is that such a big deal? Everyone has sex! ... well not everyone, but most people in this building. If you're gonna be a bitch about it... fuck you. I really can't take much more of her. Abby told me that I need to just tell Laura how I feel, but that's a lot easier said than done. It's harder when you live with her.


I'm scared of the ghost girl.

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