I love how they think they are hardcore but they aren't, really they're just pathetic losers. Actually, I don't love it. I hate it with all my heart. The devil wears polka dot skirts and dangerous clothing and laughs in your face when you say things aren't funny. The devil is not a good person. The devil likes you superficially and tells everyone so, but deep down in the devil's greasy heart, it wants you dead... "I can't wait to get out of here," you whispered on the phone to me last night, and then you seemed to wake up and became different again. I wish you'd stop that. I wish everything would just stop. "We don't have any milk," I say to my little brother as he prepares to eat cereal, and I can see how he flares in rage at me for telling him so. He stomp to check, and there is no milk. "I hate you," he says, but I know he doesn't mean it. I don't think. I'm going to a four day horse show today, and I hope to do well. It'll be my first time showing at 3'. Wish me luck...