Television is crap.

My tum is nauseous.

I'm tired.

Yet, of course, am too anxious to fall asleep.

I have a significantly deep dent in my finger nail.

Erin remembered.

I dare Mrs. Paustian to call me.

Triple-dog-dare.

It would be fun.

I also dare Lauren to blame anything on me.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

I want to feel happiness, but all I feel is nausea... and lightheaded.

I have poor grammar when I am empty.

I won't survive college.

I can barely make it through each day of high school.

Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.

Why am I so easily annoyed?

Alive?

I don't want to be here.

This is pathetic.

Some fucking attempt at opening up.

To a fucking online journal.

I need to start reading again.

I need help.

Curled bangs is not a good look for Michelle Pheiffer (sp).

What

is

wrong

with

me

?