Explode

Everything is so dirty. No one cleans. NO ONE. Its so fucking unfair. I'm the one thats supposed to clean everything. I am not the only one that lives here. I clean, shortly after its dirty, again. Whats the fucking point? Especially when NO ONE helps me. Fuck living here.

Douchbagedness

I don't mean to come off or act that way..but I don't like to be insulted, yelled at or told what to do. Honestly, who does? It bothers the fuck out of me. Even if you are close family. I am going to college and doing what I need to do. I am not an alcoholic or a drug addict. But I'll stop when I please. So basically: My choices, my consequences. DUH.

PS-$109 for ONE class at Citrus. WOOT -_-

Another flashing chance at bliss..

I've found it harder and harder to get my thoughts down lately. I love to just vent. And get what I feel out..into solid visible words. I find it difficult to stay on one..idea..thought..feeling...I cannot stop listening to The Doors. Jim Morrison fascinates me. I can be completely sober and just get the fucking chills listening to his words. This summer has been short. But I've done much. College is around the corner and then begins..all sorts of changes..though I hope. Must grow out of this.."codependency"? Ruining myself. I have wants. Just need some direction..inspiration..will power..instruction? Argghhh. Let's see how well this fall goes.

PS-Learning guitar, its happening.

How I love to give in.

Currently listening to: Empty~Metric

Something amazing happened to me last night. I believe it was..karma? Or not. Either way, it was one of the dumbest decisions a guy can make. Good luck, and good riddance.

Le sigh..

Goodness, I need a better goal in life.

Well, this situation has gotten me back into Metric and Bayside. Meaning listening to them constantly..over and over again.

I should be leaving to the beach shortly. Huntington. Yes, bonfire! Going with some friends I haven't seen in ages [or so it seems].




PS: I'm bitter as hell. Obviously.

"We need to talk."

DOUCHER. I hate ppl and their stupidity. Don't go into something, or get involved with someone if you have BAGGAGE. T_T

(666)666-6666

Sitting on Lacey's bed. She's to my right on her laptop, I'm to her left listening to my zune and texting. Her phone starts ringing 'Skate in the Night' ringtone plays. Lacey picks up her phone we both look at the number and look at each other. The number reads: (666)666-666. I shit you not. She laughs and I do too [thinking its telemarker shit or something dumb]. She answers and you can hear breathing and someone whispering her name. They hang up. She tries to call back "Your call cannot be completed as dialed". We're fucking shitting bricks. Less than an hour later, they call again. She puts it on speaker and all you hear is heavy breathing. CREEPY AS FUCK. They stay on for a few seconds and hang up. She again tries to call back "Your call cannot be completed as dialed". No fucking joke. Didn't sleep til fucking 6am. -_-