So, I'm at Hotwire. Pretty much every time I decide to go out and actually manage it, it's basically a total bust. I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots... (you know, in the words of Death Cab) There's a girl here who's going to play the cello. That's pretty awesome. Casey isn't here; I don't know who the other guy is that's doing the music announcing/facilitating. I'm stealing their internet/computers. You're supposed to pay 10 cents a minute... yeah that really freaking adds up. I hate being poor. Maybe if I hadn't spent 6 bucks on a pack of Camel Wides (of which 3 I've already given away and one I have smoked, whilst trying to quit)... yeah because the fucking store doesn't sell Djarums... fuck. Hmm. Well I dunno. I'm pretty happy when I'm by myself. I really would like to like people, but I'm okay on my own; at least for now. This keyboard is really sticky and hard to type on. I should have brought my laptop. People can't see my history, I like my keyboard, I can download stuff if I want to, and it's free. Anyway. I hate that I keep looking over my shoulder. That fucking manchild is supposed to be here tonight and I think my plans have fallen through. I hate that I actually want to hear one of his songs, after all the bullshit he put me through (and all the bullshit he generally is). Well, it's a good song though. And it suits his voice. I think that's cool. I like the swearing off guys for Lent idea. I really don't like them much, anyway. Hmm. I want one of the comfy couches/chairs right in the front square. They're all taken though. And there's room on some of them, but I don't know those people. And damn my shyness. I should be doing homework. I liked that talk I had with the guy at Westlake yesterday. He's a hobo pothead fellow, but he actually did decently with his life until recently. He gave me a cigarette and such. But reminded me that having a family that cares enough to set a curfew is much better than the life he's currently leading. And that I shouldn't hang around with the druggie loser kids I went there so desperately wanting to meet. Well, I knew all that already, but I guess it's good to have it affirmed. Though now I still have very little to go on, socially. I'm just plain fucking scared of the functional kids. They have normal lives, normal shit... and, I dunno, I guess I don't like the idea of being the most underprivileged, or the most depressive, or plainest-looking person in my group of friends. I really wish I could be looked up to. But I don't do anything to be looked up to for. Maybe someday, I'll find that one thing that makes me feel like I want to feel (you know, in the words of... who was it... Flick?) Hmm, he's here now. I'm gonna go be emo in my corner now. =/