Okay, it's 3 AM and I have to get up at 8, shower and get ready for senior photos. Screw that. I don't even know if I WANT to. Not like anyone REALLY wants them. Sure eveyone will be polite and ask for one but what will they do with it? Stick it in their ass. I'd love to do it for them. I am bitter. You know why? I know why. I just finished reading that person's whole blog and it made me feel... oh, there isn't a word for it. But If you could combine bitter, horrible and depresed all into one word (Horrib-itter-pressed?) that's what I feel like. I lied to them. Noth of them. I told C that I wanted to "try out other people" without ever mentioning M to her. And I never told M that I was hiding her from C, wihch would piss her off because it pissed her off then TB wanted to hide her from TG. So now it's out in the open at 3 AM. I don't care what you all think of me. This is who I am. Don't like it? Tough. Yes, I am a nice person in general. Timid, shy and a coward. Also been caleld a push-over. The fact that I havn't argued against it proves I am. But I can be an asshole, a prick, a bastard and just as angry and enraged as the next guy. My life isn't so bad when compared to some people, like Eminem or the starving children in third world countries. But compared to all my friends my life sucks. Sucks like a... like something. Maybe I only think this because none of them has ever told me about the bad things in their life. Want mine? Too bad, here they are:

My dad wasn't there for my 13th bithday. I told him "it's okay" on the phone. It wasn't. I felt "13, this is when puberty's effects finish and I become a man." Which may or not be true, but if I felt it, that's what it is to me." Now I feel bad for missing Ernest's party. But he had his friends over and I don't like some of them. Anyway. Instead dad was in the Philippines with a woman. Yes, you know what I mean. The following summer was hell in Vegas. My parents fighting and all that. I found out later in life that dad had done this before. Anyway. So forthcoming I felt like shit. The end of my 7th grade career sucked. My 8th grade year was a fiasco and it was amazing I graduated.

Winter of '98. I got introduced to RE2 and AOL. In combination that gave birth to RE RPG. Which I met Michelle. Mellick, not the other one. Wow, gee ain't life grand a girl who likes me! Yada-yada long story. In the end, a phone call stating that Michelel wasn't real and instead was a combination of a real Michelle Mellick and Kim (Theresa Marie Jarell) role-playing the characterfor hte RPG. Wow, ain't love grand? No, love sucks. So that was my first brush with love. Summer was better that year. Then High School started.

Alma Heights. That sucked. Long story short I hated it and the assholes there. Dropped out second semester, got most of my crdits. No, just some, actually.

Oceana, Sophmore year. Boy did that year bite ass. All F's I swear to God. Fell in with the gaming crowd, lost my focus. That was dumb. Probably influenced by the semester I missed and the summer that followed it. Met Crystal that year.

Jump foreward to this year. Didn't graduate, wonderful. All my friends are moving on but me. I don't drive, I don't have a job and I broke up with my girlfriend for another person. But some of you know this story so I won't go into it.

Okay, on paper it don't seem to bad and I don't want to point fingers but in the end:

I hate myself and want to die.

Thinking of writing a poem. No, not about death. What do I look like, a fucking Goth? Hate'em. Love'em at the same time. They look kinda neat but I think it's just a way to get attention. And some of them are angsty. Hardcore Ashmore has brought it to my attention that this blog seems like a big bitter recepticle. Maybe it is. Is that so bad? It's a vent. Nothing good in it so far, though. We'll see how this goes.

Should I tie my hair back for pictures? Only one person answered and said yes. If I'm on and you've read this, tell me what you think.

Now that this is all on here, there's no way I could ever show my ex. Oh well. I bet my current interest is going to pissed to. But if so, then I deserve it. Thinking of writing a poem... thinking... thinking.... fine.