i make things seem way bigger than they really are. i complain. sometimes i sit in this big pile of complaints i have laying in the corner of my room. its funny to pick some of the up and look at what i complained about that day. "I hate work" "but he doesnt like me" "im so jealous you have a boyfriend" "my life sucks" "i never go anywhere" "im loosing all my friends" this pile keeps getting bigger and bigger by the second. i love to complain. and i will complain until i get my way. i have only made it an art. but really none of these are really that bad to where i need to complain. at work i make money, money makes the world go round. if he doesnt like me im sure some other guy will in .25 seconds. im not really jealous you have a boyfriend im happy you do. my life doesnt suck, it fuckin rocks actually. im not loosing all my friends, we are just growing up. i make the worse of everything. i need to just get the fuck over it and stop all my bitchin! -------------- but ive gotten so good at i think i might keep it up for a few more months. *You can't make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you're doing is recording it.* -Art Buchwald