God damnit. I had to reboot my computer again and now it won't let me download AIM 5.9, so I'm stuck with the shitty 4.7. Oh fucking well. I feel sorry for steph. Her mom called the cops on her dad and stuff, I don't know the whole story, but from what she sounds like on the phone, it must be bad. I feel sorry for people all the time. I'll be like 'I'm sorry' and they'll be like 'It's not your fault...'. Is it wrong to say 'I'm sorry' even when it's not your fault? I thought you should still say it even if its not your fault. Em...whatever. God, I hate how my grandmother never knows anything. We were rebooting the computer and I was like 'Do we want to do this?' and she was like 'I don't know' and I was like 'Well, what did you do last time?' and she was like 'Uhm...I don't remember' and so she was like 'Well, just pick that one' and I was like 'Uhh...okay' and she was like 'Well, wait..' and I had already picked that thing... and she was like 'I think last time I picked the other one..' and I was like oh..so I hit back and she was like 'Well, maybe we should try this one this time' and I was like 'Erm...okay?' and so I went to next and she was like 'Nah...just do the other one'. It pisses me off. She's always doing that about everything. Edit: Well, I got my AIM to finally upgrade or whatever to 5.9 so, that's good. It took for fucking ever to do it though. I had to restart my computer, because it was being stupit. and then I had to go and delete the install thing or whatever, then I had to download it to my computer again, then finnally, it worked. So, ya. Why am I this way? Tell me why. Why am I this way? Why? Open wounds in the palms of my hands. Festering through infections time. I feel so faint as my life spills over you. Backstep over glass as I repent. I fear I can't prevent myself from spilling your life all over me. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Mother, say you'll pray for me. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. I'm premature in my decay. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Mother, say you'll pray for me. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Shards of glass swimming in my eyes. A small voice in the back of my mind, that's whispering words I never want to hear. I pray that you won't hesitate, as you watch me degenerate, to reach in my wounds and extract all my fear. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Mother, say you'll pray for me. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. I'm premature in my decay. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Mother say you'll pray for me. I'm so so sick so sick of myself. My suffocation, asphyxiation. I've been choking on my own blood. My suffocation, asphyxiation. I've been choking on my own blood. I'm so sick, so sick of myself. Mother, say you'll pray for me. -3 1/2