i havent written a meaningful entry for a while. it seems like i always know just exactly what to say before i start an entry, but as im writing i always just end up summing things up. cleaned my room and made it look wonderful. cleaned my binder and made it look wonderful. i felt like a mess, its amazing how a good clean up can make you feel. i feel like its quite impossible for me to be good friends with my exes. you know what it is? i usually date someone with high expectations. think that person is greater than they really are. then, when we break up and i get over it, its almost like i see the same person again for the very first time. only theyre quite different. theyre not as great. love really is blind. or maybe i should say "like" because ive never been in love. i looked at a lot of couples today in the halls at school. i thought of how it used to be like that with past boyfriends. i shuddered. i dont like it. what? affection. its disgusting. i dont know why, but i cant handle it. should i blame it on my dad? i might as well, i blame everything else on him anyhow. yesterday in art, nothing was working. i knew i was going to start crying so i left. i sat outside and read. no one noticed. i thought about how high my expectations are for myself. i wish i was perfect. "no one's perfect" oh fuck you, some people are. i strive for self perfection but in art its something else. i hate perfect landscapes that almost look real. i hate the portraits that look too much like human beings. i hate art without mistakes. i strive for perfect mistakes. the ones that look good. because there are some that work quite well. isnt that weird? almost paridoxical. maybe its the only place ill accept my mistakes. im glad i have art. otherwise, who knows what id be doing. some people are so fucking predictable. fin.