Someone told me that high school would be the best years of my life. That’s garbage.
If the highlight of your life consists of early mornings, papers, tests, copious amounts of parties, limited freedom, and a shitty job, you leave much to be desired.
I can’t really think of much else to say tonight. I can’t translate my disgruntled, volatile feelings into thoughts.
I just feel things today. Today was a day for feeling things for no reason, I believe. I can’t tell you why I wanted to stab someone in the eye with a pen today. I just did. I can’t tell you why nothing on my iPod can bring me joy today. It just didn’t. Let’s just leave it alone, shall we?
I can tell you I am done going out of my way to be nice or helpful. I’m just about done being nice and helping people, only to turn around and find out something else has going straight to hell. There is some miscommunication between myself and Karma, and it needs to be resolved or I’m cancelling my subscription.
Never mind that I get this fantastic warm feeling that lets me know I’m a good person. That’s not important right now. Right now, all that matters is that everyone is getting what they deserve. I don’t deserve people’s bullshit, so I’m going to start earning it. I’m going to stop being nice about it, going to stop putting band aids on things. That way, when shit hits the fan, I won’t feel quite so wronged. The get more for less motto fits nicely here.
I’m just tired and cranky and bitter. I’ll be fine tomorrow, maybe. I really don’t want to go slog through classes and deal with morons and smile about it the whole time.
I really want to tell people to shut the hell up and go die somewhere.
I want to tell them that it’s not the jeans that are making them look fat, it’s really the layers of fat making them look fat.
I want to tell people that there is nothing sexy about saggy jeans and ass crack everywhere. I do not look at your ass and go,” Man, that’s one sexy butt crack, lemme get a piece of that.” No.
I want to scream at people who stop walking in the hall to talk about pointless drivel. YOU ARE FUCKING HOLDING UP THIS WHOLE SAD PROCESSION OF PEOPLE WHO ARE TRYING TO GET TO CLASS ON TIME. Move your shit, people.
No, teacher, I didn’t read your fucking book. You didn’t read it either. Shut up with the double standards. Go shave your mole and tell your pillow you love it because that’s the only affection you receive.
Also, its a fucking lunch line. If you want to cut in line to be the very next one to get a plate full of steamed shit and tofu product, be my guest. Be my fucking guest. Because, quite frankly, it’s all the same.
I feel like Dib from Invader Zim sometimes. Not because I’m obsessively chasing aliens, but because none of my peers are smarter than the average bear. Fuck. Bears probably score higher on standardized tests than this pathetic gaggle of elephant shit we call the Senior Class.
I’m done now.
