My lip ring makes me drool more when I sleep. It's fucking nasty. I don't want to take it out though, because that would be a waste of my life.

I'm starting a new diet today. And I'm going to keep it, because if I don't then I'll die.

Goal: 0 calories. Just to cleanse the system. Then maybe like 100. I dunno.

I feel ill. 

I hate when people try to sound deep. But they're really not. I'm much more interested in things that come straight from the heart, or are your thoughts, not something completely overanalyzed in your mind to sound deep enough to impress someone good. Because that's just sad. If what you really think isn't impressive enough, then fuck it. Why impress them anyway?

Sam bought silver pants on Sunday. I think I may have come to terms with some stuff. And I've realized that I lied when I said the medication wasn't working. Because a day off of it was like a hammer to the emotion control center or something. I'm surprised I didn't shut down completely. I could sleep right now. But I won't, because I'm attempting this whole "good student" thing.

i haven't showered since thursday, so i guess that's a bad sign. i feel bad again. and i don't feel like being around people anymore. and school is a drag. and there's a beast in my head telling me the wrong things. i'm sort of worried. i don't want to become some blob that lurks in my room forever and just dies off. i tried "getting out more" and that helps until i'm alone. i need to not be alone anymore or i get scared. that's why i'm on the fucking computer so much. i can talk to living things. and not just hear my thoughts in the quiet.

maybe i'll go wash myself. 

Any of you. At all. Sometimes I wonder how we are the same species if you seem so foreign to me. I saw a picture of this monkey today, or two monkeys. And one was cleaning the other. Then in the next picture, they are switched, and mokey 2 is cleaning monkey 1. I think I understand them better than us. They monkeys don't cry if they look fat one day. And the monkeys get what they give. Why is it so different for us? I could invest 100 dollars and if I'm lucky, maybe tomorrow I'll be a millionaire. Or I could work harder than anyone for my whole life, and just barely get by.  I love the opprotunities that come with being in our society, but they don't work out for everyone.  I remember being a kid, and having adults constantly telling me "you can be whatever you want to be." But I never believed them.  I couldn't be a ballerina, they have to be perfect. I couldn't be a singer, you have to have talent in the first place.  I'm not very old, but I'm old enough to know that not all of my dreams will come true. And maybe that's why I wish so much. The more wishes I have, the more likely it is at least one will actually happen.

Mental health day, to put it nicely. I love when I can sleep until 5 in the evening, then wake up, live my life for a few hours, and sleep again. But I guess sleeping until 2 will have to do for today. And tomorrow I'll have to make an appearance again. I want to just hide in my room forever until I can get my shit straight. I don't want your help and your opinions, only I can fix me. Because only I can feel what's wrong. So don't try. Just sit there and try to look pretty, and I will try to be the brains of the operation.

I wish I knew that someone amazing would read this and make me feel better. But they won't because amazing people don't waste their lives reading the writing of annoying, complaining, ugly girls like myself. Because everything I say is a waste of the precious space of their minds. I HATE THIS. 

And I realize that I'm not very attractive, and she is, and everyone is. And that I could be better. But you don't even care about me, so to point out something like that doesn't help much. In fact I like it better when you don't talk to me at all. I really do know that I should lose weight, and that all the make up in the world couldn't make me less painful to look at. And the diet pills only mess up my heart, so why complain about something so helpless? I'm not going to try to avoid the facts, I'm ugly as fuck and I'm fat and greasy, and maybe have lepracy. No, you would all like me more if I had no legs. And if I didn't care for anything, I might just cut them off myself. Or maybe you will in my sleep, so when I pass you by, you needn't squint. You can look over me completely, and instead of your point of view being bombarded by this disgusting creature, you will never know I have passed.

Fucking asshole. 

When I write, I don't stop, and I'm not gonna. I'm gonna write and think and vomit my thoughts in the form of sentences thrown together by someone with little or no education. But maybe I underestimate myself. Maybe somewhere, someday, I will throw out a gem of knowledge that will make your life complete, and you will thank me forever because something I say clicked for you. I doubt this will happen at the age of 15, but maybe I'm lucky. Maybe my intellect surpasses that of a duck. But maybe not.

Maybe I'm a self-loathing, attention seeking cow with nothing to do with my life but complain about how much I dislike it. Or maybe I'm just confused and lost and I am trying to sort things out by saying them out loud. And I don't care if anyone ever reads this, or cares about these words, because I'm being selfish. This is for me, and no one else, and I don't mind if you read it, but it makes no difference to me whether you care or you don't. Most likely you don't, because you're selfish. We're all fucking selfish, it's human nature.  Survival of the fittest, right? You have mental problems? Well fuck you, I'm not gonna let you drag me down. I'm on my way to the top, I'm gonna be a big star one day, and I don't need other people's bullshit dragging me down. No.                      yeah, that's what you're all thinking. And I know it. It's what everyone is thinking. I don't believe a single soul on this earth honestly cares completely selflessly about anything. You say you're in love? Why? Because of the way he holds you, and the way she kisses you, whatever. The way YOU feel. And if they didn't make YOU feel that way, you wouldn't give a damn about them. So stop lying to me and saying "I love you" or "I'm worried" because I can see right through your fucking contacts, and you're eyes are telling me you want to go fuck and I'm vunerable. You want to go do something and I'm your ride there. You want to be in love, and I have a cute friend.  I'm surprised you remember my fucking name.