listening:: Slit My Wrist by Murderdolls
Ironic this song should come on because La's been cutting herself again. I wish she wouldn't. I love you La!
I.S. was actually fun today because the Devil (Ms. Smith) was gone for half the period. Kahlyn and I said next to each other, which is bad. Because when me and Kahlyn are anywhere NEAR each other, we laugh at everything. I laugh at Kahlyn laughing because she goes "st" (this noise she makes with her tongue) everytime she laughs. So we were sitting there laughing our butts off at every single thing we said, and making more noise than the entire class combined. When Ms. Smith got back, we passed notes which were equally funny and we would randomly snort or giggle or do something annoying silence-breaking like that because haha we're funny (to each other).
I've given up. I'm really, really exhausted. Yes, with life, but I'm physically tired as well. I get up early, you see. I just don't give a flip anymore. I don't care about my future so much, even though my parents are always on my case about it. I think...for me...I'll get married to an arrogant, yet gorgeous and rich bastard who only uses me for sex (because, yes, I will be beautiful when I'm a growed up). After a year in that relationship I'll file for divorce and move out of his secluded mansion after a night of relentless makeup sex that gets us nowhere towards making up. I'll take my emotional baggage that will stay with me forever but never really bother me and move into an expensive apartment, even though I've been saying all my life that apartments are a waste of money and that I'd never rent one. I'll continue to pursue my career as a sniper in some branch of the government, and kill all the fucking people that I legally can. Maybe I'll meet the love of my life along the way, but I'll get drunk and forget him, retreating back into the solitude and lonliness that I know so well. Eventually, I'll be assassinated by the Russian Mafia, or perhaps the lackeys of some rising world leader who sees me as a potential threat. Either way, I'll die at the ripe old age of 36, with the fading memory of my family and the thought that I never really made them happy flashing through my mind.
The ideal life, indeed. I hope I'm not depressing anyone.