not sure why I’m typing this. I got three hours of sleep. To some of you that seems like a lot, but it isn’t to me. I went to bed at three something and woke up at six. it’s so weird to see the sun rise, set, and rise again. I keep waking up just enough for me to see the sunlight start and then i normally pass out again. not tonight. i let my sister take my bed because she refused to clean hers, but i was watching a movie with my boyfriend. it was fun. but i’m sore and aching and my eyes hurt. i’ve been sleeping until noon almost everyday. now it’s 9:39 and i’m dying for a nap. my head hurts right above the temple. it feels like i was beaten with a bar. i was up so late because i was reading things and thinking. Normally I hate not capitalizing anything but I’m tired. I’ll try from here on out but no promises.
I don’t know why people read these. Why are you reading this? Is your dash boring? Are you curious of my life? Why my life? It’s boring. I’m not fun. There’s nothing truly amazing about my life. I’m a girl. I have great friends, and when I say that I suppose you think like I do. A bunch of teenage girls that sit around on their phones and talk about how Bobby fucked Jacey and yadda yadda. Oddly enough, I only have one friend who’s a girl. I can’t really connect like that. In fact, I have a hard time connecting to anyone. My mom says I come off as unapproachable. My sister says I’m a “rude bitch.” How nice. I didn’t think I came off as rude, but I guess I did.
My neck hurts now, and so do my ribs. I like ranting like this. I don’t know what I’m typing and I’m not really filtering anything. It’s just letting go. I’m partially looking at a tree outside. The shadow is kind of weird and looks like a big hole. There is always so much going on in my fucking head. Not good things. On this blog, there’s a couple of people who know me in real life. And I think my sister is right on the “rude bitch” thing. I’m just not right I guess. I say the wrong things and I’m so sorry. My hair is really soft. It looks like copper though. I used to really like it but then someone told me that he preferred darker-headed girls or different colors. I guess I just assumed it was ugly since then and I dyed it darker. I’m glad that I’m not with him. He was mean I think. Sure he was nice sometimes but there was always some snide comment that just made me feel like shit. I still feel like shit sometimes because of it. But there’s been this guy lately that just fixes it, you know? Fixes everything. He’s nice. I really like him.
A weird thought is that I’m probably at least a 1/5 way through my life. That’s if I live to be 85. That’s so weird. It’s such a small fraction, isn’t it? Like “oh, only 1/5 of a cookie? Damn.” but 1/5 of the way until I’m dead. Just dead. That’s just weird to think about. An odd thought though. I could die before that. Not suicide (don’t do suicide (do suicide? (it isn’t a drug (but don’t commit suicide (yeah that sounds better))))). But some random accident. My life isn’t interesting enough for me to be gunned down. I’ll probably fall and slip on a banana or something just terrible like that. I want a piñata at my funeral. It’d be fun I think. something nice. I’m not planning on dying. It’s just some thought.
My left leg is twitching again. It’s been doing that lately. I feel bigger. Not in the good way either. My hips have exploded which isn’t a good thing. I don’t like growing up. I want cats and puppies. Not babies. That’s not true. I would like to have a kid if it came out like a teenager. That’s so mean.
I need to clean, don’t I? But I’m tired. I may sleep. I don’t feel well either. Everything is heavy. I whine a lot. If you read to this point, you win the game. You win my pathetic whining and my obnoxious self posts. Why did you read this though? This has been so boring. I’m so boring. Why? You surely must have better things to do. CARPE DIEM. I’m going to do that from my bed. I may sleep. A nap. 20 minutes. Please. That’s all.