"I love the person I'm becoming." She said, but nobody else does. "It's like special flavors of soda-pop" I was told, "straight--with a twist!!"
~~~~~~~~~
Lindsey's jeep is in Orlando, but Lindsey's still in Connecticut. Krystal's captain at Bishop Moore but Krystal's become a bad person. Lindsey and I left for her but i guess i learned my lesson. Taylor Grace is Graceful and Taylor used to throw up. Taylor used to starve herself and never gave a fuck. Anna hates colorguard and never gets in trouble. Anna loves Bowie but despises double-bubble. Anna writes poetry and had this strange idea; bizarre and obscure. Anna is a red head, but dyes it blond sometimes. Anna hates her high school and tells me what it's like. Mikael,Chris, And I hung out the other night. She promised she wouldn't kill me. She said it'd be okay. They know what I went through. I'm still treated this way. I hate you for tricking me, teasing me, tempting me. I hate you for leaving me, loving me, hating me. Fuck you all. Fuck your music. Fuck your chapstick. Fuck your anger. Fuck your captain. Fuck your bed. I swear to God, I'm never fucking with you again.
And it takes only a few short lines with my spectacles in place to realize that everything in this notebook deserves to be burned. God-awful. Horrible. atrocity. Fuck Orlando, I hate this city. haha nice
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The senior religion teacher at Bishop Moore is now a buddy of mine on Facebook. Her daughter doesn't like me anymore, but I guess she's not to blame for growing up. We all will do it in the end and I've got Sweeney Todd's saga stuck on repeat in my mind with my voice trying to copy little Toby's singing praise about the magical elixir which smells like piss and frankly taste like private school, in my professional opinion. It's like cleaning your room when you have yet to see the mess. It's like watching movies I've only ever heard of in songs. Or maybe I'm hearing the songs wailing over the characters in the movies they overkill, I cant remember quite frankly. But I had the most miraculous epiphany the other night and it came in the form of a dream, my friend. Now, I wasn't prepared to fight this battle, since I was more than half asleep. I had on no armor, nothing but the sweaty pajamas I was rolling around in uncomfortably on the twin-sized bed I probably outgrew when I hit the fourth grade. Besides the point, but Mom's buying new dresser's and that'll brighten up my day. But this dream featured Belle and her entourage of admirers warning me not to believe her. I received a text reading "Hey call me later, we need to talk" and after a couple hours, I did, though Lucy begged me not to. And when I got on the phone, she said we should be friends again as if she'd felt that way since March, but I know she couldn't have. I mean, let's face it, I groveled in April and even wished her a happy birthday on the 30th. That wasn't enough, but this imaginary depiction of the fantasy I longed for was bubbling in my stomach and making me happy like I hadn't been since, honestly, the day we decided we'd make a friendship of this biology class torture. Nor since the day I taught her to inhale and not to mix her shots the way she did and had us lying on my front lawn dropping glass and slurring for Lucy to point out the Big dipper, or maybe it was the little one? But long story short, I was elated until I woke up and her irritated tone of "whatever" continuously reverberated throughout this thing I describe as a mind.
It was worse than Earth Science with Mr. Woodcock freshmen year and sitting next to that kid, Jacob Wood. Yes, those are their real names. I wouldn't lie about that. No, I would not because I find that liars tell lies about lies, but tell the truth about the truth. And truly? I hate that girls guts and I never want to see her again. That's the thing, I would enjoy nothing more than her to disappear off this earth so i could live in peace, but at the same time I want to drown in the memory of what we had and how strongly I loved her, how strongly I still love her even after everything she's put me through.
And it takes only a few short lines with my spectacles in place to realize that everything in this notebook deserves to be burned. God-awful. Horrible. atrocity. Fuck Orlando, I hate this city. haha nice
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The senior religion teacher at Bishop Moore is now a buddy of mine on Facebook. Her daughter doesn't like me anymore, but I guess she's not to blame for growing up. We all will do it in the end and I've got Sweeney Todd's saga stuck on repeat in my mind with my voice trying to copy little Toby's singing praise about the magical elixir which smells like piss and frankly taste like private school, in my professional opinion. It's like cleaning your room when you have yet to see the mess. It's like watching movies I've only ever heard of in songs. Or maybe I'm hearing the songs wailing over the characters in the movies they overkill, I cant remember quite frankly. But I had the most miraculous epiphany the other night and it came in the form of a dream, my friend. Now, I wasn't prepared to fight this battle, since I was more than half asleep. I had on no armor, nothing but the sweaty pajamas I was rolling around in uncomfortably on the twin-sized bed I probably outgrew when I hit the fourth grade. Besides the point, but Mom's buying new dresser's and that'll brighten up my day. But this dream featured Belle and her entourage of admirers warning me not to believe her. I received a text reading "Hey call me later, we need to talk" and after a couple hours, I did, though Lucy begged me not to. And when I got on the phone, she said we should be friends again as if she'd felt that way since March, but I know she couldn't have. I mean, let's face it, I groveled in April and even wished her a happy birthday on the 30th. That wasn't enough, but this imaginary depiction of the fantasy I longed for was bubbling in my stomach and making me happy like I hadn't been since, honestly, the day we decided we'd make a friendship of this biology class torture. Nor since the day I taught her to inhale and not to mix her shots the way she did and had us lying on my front lawn dropping glass and slurring for Lucy to point out the Big dipper, or maybe it was the little one? But long story short, I was elated until I woke up and her irritated tone of "whatever" continuously reverberated throughout this thing I describe as a mind.
It was worse than Earth Science with Mr. Woodcock freshmen year and sitting next to that kid, Jacob Wood. Yes, those are their real names. I wouldn't lie about that. No, I would not because I find that liars tell lies about lies, but tell the truth about the truth. And truly? I hate that girls guts and I never want to see her again. That's the thing, I would enjoy nothing more than her to disappear off this earth so i could live in peace, but at the same time I want to drown in the memory of what we had and how strongly I loved her, how strongly I still love her even after everything she's put me through.
Dear Bishop Moore,
I'm sorry for what was said in my last letter to you. I didn't mean it, I swear. Please don't send the cops to my house thinking I'll blow up the school. I give you my word; I won't. Besides, that message on the girls bathroom wall was written after I left. So fair is fair, right? And when I offer my condolences for the aggravation I put you through, you know I'm not telling the truth. friends?
As Always,
Mariah.
I'm sorry for what was said in my last letter to you. I didn't mean it, I swear. Please don't send the cops to my house thinking I'll blow up the school. I give you my word; I won't. Besides, that message on the girls bathroom wall was written after I left. So fair is fair, right? And when I offer my condolences for the aggravation I put you through, you know I'm not telling the truth. friends?
As Always,
Mariah.
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you see, I think insanity is unavoidable by 17. For the previous 16 years you hid it really well. But once you're a year 'til legalization, it hits you. I realized how pointless it is to live on earth for almost 17 years and never have gone bungee jumping. Therefore, it's been added to my list of things to do. Not only that, but how dumb is homework? In the long run, I don't think it matters. Cleaning my room is the pits. Absolutely. I could do it in less than an hour if I set my mind to it, but why bother? In ten months I will be 18 and I can keep my room in whatever form of disarray I see fit. This is why I see their attempts to ground me and repo my cellular device comical. They have no power anymore, just like I didn't for sixteen years. Yes, turning eighteen is grand, but first I have to wait. TEN MONTHS of suffering. There better be a fucking god up there because if I die before June I'll need to hold someone responsible.
