February 2011
I want a change.
I want my hair cut and dyed but everyone is yelling at me not to. It upsets me. Can’t I change myself so I get noticed? Maybe I’ll get a “Wow you look amazing” or “Youre so pretty.” because no one ever says that to me. I just want a change.
January 2011
I got jipped.
I got $17 in tips. I worked 10 hours. Fucking fuck.
Milsom house have blue hair, coat hanger swans, nose piano players, owls and we can become science.
Now, look how awesome that is.
ALRIGHT, FINE. I’LL STOP NOW. But if you are in Milsom house, you must follow! It’s like… our dorm.
When the bell rings, and everyone starts packing their stuff up.
Teacher: The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.
WELL THEN WHAT THE HECK IS THE BELL FOR?!
I have a slight form of Pectus Excavatum.
And for you girls out there who think you’re fat or ugly or not good enough. You can always diet if you want to loose wieght, you can always buy something to accentuate what you were born with, you’ll always be good enough. Me? I can’t change a damn thing because nothing I ever do will fix my body unless I go under dangerous and expensive surgery. I’ll always look like this and I’ll never love myself. It’s disgusting.
