I've nothing to say. Absolutely fuck all.
I should paint a picture to organise the mess that are my feelings, because I'm happy and sad and annoyed and angry and mellow and everything all at once, and nothing's working because it's not legal and because parents annoy me. ARGH.
Need things, letting him down? Nah, nah, he said... oh, but he's lying! He wants his goddamn weed.
Maybe I shouldn't be so... cold. And then warm. And then weird. Just general fucked-up-ness, and it's weird because I shouldn't screw people around so much if they'll put with me.
Argh, I don't know what to do with myself, I just want to sit around and talk and then I end up weird and it goes weird. But it's good weird and bad weird.
...I'm hungry.
I should paint a picture to organise the mess that are my feelings, because I'm happy and sad and annoyed and angry and mellow and everything all at once, and nothing's working because it's not legal and because parents annoy me. ARGH.
Need things, letting him down? Nah, nah, he said... oh, but he's lying! He wants his goddamn weed.
Maybe I shouldn't be so... cold. And then warm. And then weird. Just general fucked-up-ness, and it's weird because I shouldn't screw people around so much if they'll put with me.
Argh, I don't know what to do with myself, I just want to sit around and talk and then I end up weird and it goes weird. But it's good weird and bad weird.
...I'm hungry.
