I find it crazy how something I read can give me goosebumps. The mere raw emotion felt in the things I read make me feel them too. That's what real writing is. Raw. Powerful. Emotional. Something that isn't afraid to sound ridiculous. My grandma keeps asking why I want to volunteer. Does it really matter? I mean, I'm the one volunteering. Not her. I'm the one who loves animals, and doesn't have a life because most of my friends are idiots. I'm the one who spends the weekends at home alone while everyone else is together. Anyways. Why is it that I always seem to want things that I never have enough money for? OR I always want things that require saving money. I might save up to buy a puppy. Maybe... my kitty, cocaine