| Current mood: |  hyper |
| Current music: | "Bouncing Off the Walls," Sugar Cult |
i'm bouncing off the walls again, i'm looking like a fool again; so go ahead and take a picture, and hang it up so you can tear me down.
I don't care
cuz I'm still here
and I've got nothing
left to lose
after all the years
I've wasted on you.
I'm the last little Indian. All my friends are moving in, moved in, still at home far away, or working. My boyfriend is working, and we probably won't see each other tonight. I'm going stir crazy from sitting in the house with the dog all day, every day.
Why do these weeks off always seem like a respite until I get to them, when they feel oppressive and boring?
Why am I so susceptible to guilt?
Why do people re-appear in your life for no reason at all, or simply their own, random reasons? With nothing really to say?
Am I supposed to pretend nothing happened?
Why do fathers suck? They either abandon you, or they stay and beat you and make you miserable and tell you what a horrible child you are. Why don't they realize the affect they have on their children? Why do I feel lucky, because I don't know mine?
Why do I post eight billion quiz results?
Can I move ahead in life and pretend that nothing this summer happened? Or do I need to process it in order to move on? And if the latter is the case...how?
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