I hate that you'll always make feel like I wasn't as good as her.

So what, was I just second best in your eyes from the start?

Was I just a filler to help you ignore the fact she dropped you easier than a bad habit?

You made it feel so real, me and you.

Don't worry, just add me onto your list of regrets.

And I'll add you to my list of pleasant memories and valuable experiences.

So in about 6 months time, perhaps...

I feel that hatred brewing inside me. From the depths of my mind, its rolling to a boil. Don't speak to me. Don't touch me. Don't look my way at all. Hurling my closed fist to my skull with all the strength my weak body can muster cannot dull the burning sensation of this hate. The hydrochloric acid is churning with a vengeance that threatens to explode up from my stomach. I'm fighting this war while bleeding internally. The struggle is great and hope is diminishing. I can't believe what I see, what I hear, what I feel... tell me it isn't real. No. No. No. I want all of you dead. Lifeless.

This is stronger than an emotion. It's a state of being. It's consuming me.

It has now become me.

Laaaazzzzyyyyyyyyy day.

My attire: black tank top, CHHS Latin Club sweat pants, and my leopard print slippers.

Facebook. Brownies. My Name Is Earl. Youtube. Music downloads. Couch potato.

I like days like this sometimes.

Sugar Ray - Every morning by xtina138

It's January 1, 2011. Wasn't such a bad new year at all. I didn't know what I'd be doing but it worked out well enough. Mellow mushroom, sour gummy worms, uncontrollable laughter from picture/story game, firecrackers that nearly deafened me in one ear, and hope for a better year.

Time to start over. Time to start new things.