i was sooo wrong in my last post.

i don't know how i feel right now.

be careful what you wish for.

im sick of being by myself, its fucking lonely. im sick of feeling used. im sick of feeling like im not fucking good enough for anybody. what the fuck is wrong with me? i am going to be 50 and alone someday. i wanna be somebodys someone. i dont care if the world knows it. im lost and lonely and pathetic... there, i said it. i hope i brightened someones day, if anyone still reads this.

yay! homework is done. there is a contest for the cover of the fall dining guide for the tacoma volcano. everyone in my class is competing and the final drafts are due tomorrow. ive known about this assignment for weeks, but i just busted out with it in the last couple hours. wont win now, but wish me luck anyway.

the subtitle is "let them eat cheap."

dear liz,


stop falling in love at the drop of a hat.

i'd say it's never appropriate. ever.

they profess their undying love for me,
and then abandon me without explanation.
there has got to be something wrong with me.

i like to create images that creep me out.
yes, this was made by yours truly.
late nights spark creativity.

because it hurts when you look at him,
and it hurts when you don't.

because boys make me crazy,

and girls are pretty.




too bad vaginas are ugly.



i cant sleep and i have a ton of homework to do.
blah-zay.


i love diet coke. [=

with a little help from an old friend... whose words were, "youre rude, i said your rude."

i think i just realized why people dont like me.
its because of my unintentional rudeness.

to all who still read this, im sorry.

im sorry for every single bitchy look.
i swear to god thats just how my face looks.
as for my words or actions... its nothing personal.

i most definitely want to be cremated. who really wants their body eaten up by disgusting maggots? i want my ashes to be scattered in the ocean somewhere. people wont be able to visit my decomposing body at a tombstone, but thats not how i want it to be. they'll remember me just as i was.

i fucking hate you. go to fucking hell.

why?

why did i go to the bar that night?

what was i seeking that i didnt already know i would find?

everything.

im back at square one, just combing the on demand menu for something slightly pacifying. it comes in waves, feelings of anxiety and relief. blah-zay-blah are the only words to describe it. i can feel myself withering away. every time i look in the mirror i feel much prettier but much less alive. i hate not loving food. i hate losing my spark. i hate losing myself.

lord have mercy, he's got powers.

bored.

someone rescue me from production class.

isnt all its cracked up to be.

im having the time of my life!


WOO!

fuckballs.

august isnt going as smoothly as i had hoped.

lame.

so, ive been cleaning out my room for the past few days and ive discovered a plethora of shoes, shirts, jeans, art supplies, stickers, earrings, and band-aids that have never even been touched. some of the shoes have never even been worn outside. i have a brand new pair of pumas and nikes that i didnt even remember i had. they are so dusty. i think its time they see the light of day. ill wear them out next time i leave the house.

but right now its portfolio time. [=