I’m Diggin’ It.

I got my nails done for prom.

AGH. THIS IS SO STRAAAAAAANGE.

I went from having almost nothing in the way of fingernails to having acrylic french-tipped weird things that go out farther than the fleshy end of my fingers… Oh, this is weird.

My dad is filing bankruptcy. Surprise, sur-fucking-prise.

That’s all.

I hate myself. I’m a bitch. I should die. I shouldn’t be so fussy about some things. I’m not a good enough person to have the right to be fussy about stuff. I’m ridiculous. My left fallopian tube really effing hurts.

I just hung up on Kelvin for asking me to decide which weekend he shoudl come into town. It’s either this weekend or next weekend. One or the other. And he told me to choose. And I said no. Repeatedly. And he said yes. Repeatedly. So I hung up.

God, Elise… you’re such a bitch.

I posted just for you, Sam. Interesting enough? =P

Amanda Rogers. Her music. I love it.

I want to jump off a cliff. This might be a problem.

It’s probably not healthy how much her stuff makes me want to die. I just… I don’t even know. I don’t think her stuff is particularly depressing… Maybe it is. It’s obviously some kind of upsetting.

“Love in Our Eyes” is my current obsession. It starts out slowly… she has such a little voice and it’s the main thing but then after a while the piano just gets so full in the background it reminds me of water and I just want to lie down in the middle of the hot, sunny driveway and let a raccoon eat me to death.

I don’t think that made any sense. But that doesn’t matter.

I want to curl up in a ball so tightly I just implode.