She’s going to become a hooker. A prostitute. Just look at her. She just looks like one. With her hair, clothes, cigarette in one hand, coughing it all up. She’s going to have a child and trying to support him or her by going to her stripper job.
I feel bad just talking bad about her. Well I hope she doesn’t become.

You know what I’d like? To go a day and not hear the siren of a police car, a fire truck, or an ambulance. But when you live near a hospital and in a ghetto place, it’s inevitable.

8 in the time span of five minutes. I left thereafter.

I’m really interested in knowing.
Next year I sorta want an apartment. Cause I’d like to have people over! Ya know? But I don’t think I’ll actually do it. I don’t wanna go looking for one and doing all that shit.

I never went to Starbucks yesterday. But I also never went anywhere yesterday. Whatthefuck? A Saturday and nothing? I was just like my roommate and stayed in the room and only left to eat. Ewww. We were at the dining center and I was going to get a slice of pizza when some fat ugly bitch side swept me and took the last slice. I said, “No you fat bitch.”

I just wanna put a link to my Twitter account on here. But I’m not ready. Facebook? Not ever. I’ve had this for over a year, Tumblr, and I haven’t told anyone about it. I just don’t want people I know in real life to judge me on this. I’d also like to keep this a place where I can almost say anything. I wish I had a psychiatrist. Or just someone I can talk about everything and anything to. Too bad my parents won’t ever pay for one. They like to think I’m totally fine and don’t need anything. Like my mother. All she ever says whenever I tell her stuff is to just stop or have control. Thanks. So very much helpful. I don’t plan on talking to her till I see her for Thanksgiving; cause I know when I come back she’ll be all yay and shit. And I’ll just be like make my cookies.

So. How was your day Saturday? I wrote something cause I felt like it. I have nothing to do. This is every night/early early morning. I envy those who fall asleep so quickly. They don’t have to deal with this shit.

So today was quite interesting. Um. Had only one class this morning. Then went to Alpine Bagel for breakfast, as usual, and to the library. Was definitely supposed to do work but as usual did not. I sat in the library for seven hours and did absolutely nothing. I was supposed to write my essay for my sociology class but I just could not. It is due midnight. But. I did do it. At 10. Put it online at 11:30. It is shitty. Hands down the worst essay I have written this semester. I am afraid of the grade I will get. But let’s rewind a bit.

A couple hours after being in the library a guy comes in and sits down at the computer next to Tran. So just two persons down. I look over and he looks over and we make eye contact for a good couple seconds and then I break it. I look away. After a second or two he then looks away. He probably stayed till the library closed because I find out that he too came to the library to work on his sociology essay! It was…different isn’t the word but it’s the first word that comes to mind. We make eye contact many times during the many hours we were in the library. Smiles too sometimes. Sometime in he gets up and then comes back, sits down, and speaks to me. Like obviously somethings up here. Right? I would always find him looking at me. It was fun I guess. I just don’t get why guys are more interested in me than girls.

I don’t know whether to cry or not. I’m trying to decide. I want to but I don’t want to. Everything is just not right.
I fucking call my mother and she hangs up on me. I sit down on just a thick enough wood ledge and look on the floor. I wanted to stay there but there was security standing across and didn’t want her there so I left. Bing…Bing…Bing…Bing…Bing…Bing. Riding down the elevator. Seemed like a movie. A beginning or something.

I walk back to my room and right before I get to my door I slide against the wall and fall sitting on the floor. I wanted to stay there. With my eyes closed. But someone opened their door. I didn’t want anyone seeing me like that. So I went in. Stood for a while, staring at my backpack. I pick it up, put it on, and leave. Down the elevator again. Walk out, all the way to the bus stop. Benches full. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand. Stare at the floor ahead of me. I run my hands through my hair and feel something wet. I put my hand out. It’s starting to rain. I check the weather. It will rain. So I turn around and walk back when I see one of the baristas from Starbucks walking, in front of me. He says, “Hey! How’re you doing?” I smile, say, “Good.” And walk away. And then. I just feel even worse after that.

I’m walking faster now. I’m starting to have trouble seeing through my right eye. I can feel tears, slightly. Little very little rain drops falling. I’m walking faster. My left hand running up and down my hair. People up ahead. I can’t let anyone see me like this. Walk inside. Go up the stairs instead. Cry or not cry? Sit on the steps. Deciding. Cry, or not?

This is bad. This is real bad.
I’m out there holding and smoking this thing cause I need to. I just feel. I just have the need. I get back in my room and I fucking need my iced coffee. Starbucks next door fucking closes early. So guess what? I’m hoping on the bus to get to the other campus to get my fucking coffee and a sandwich cause I’m hungry. I’m going all the way to the other campus just to get fucking coffee and a sandwich? 10:40. Just for fucking coffee. I had some like five hours ago!

I hate that I have to fucking suck on a cigarette. I hate that I visit Starbucks twice a day. I hate that I want to put alcohol in almost everything I drink. I hate that I can’t focus. I hate that I procrastinate till it’s just over. I fucking hate that. That. This is where someone’s supposed to stop me and make me feel better.

micomeu:

Spongebob: What do you usually do when i’m gone?

Patrick: Wait for you to come back.