So pleasant.

I need a fucking cigarette. Or five. Someone come buy me a pack, Camel turkish golds, please.
And then sit on my porch and chain-smoke with me, and be in general a misanthropic bitch, so I don't feel so out of it.

Okay, fine, I miss you. But not enough to apologize.

Anyhow. Sometimes I really enjoy having this journal, blog, whatever, and sometimes I really don't. On the occasional day or night when I simply don't have anything else to do and browse people with simliar interests, for a while, I like the idea, but eventually it just makes me lonely.
The same as writing to no one makes me lonely. I'm not sure exactly what that says about me. But I do know I need to start writing again, even if it is just to no one in specific. Also, I'm pretty sure I have an AP lit essay due in approximately an hour and a half and I'm really just not going to do it.

Yeah apathy. Fuck the educational system of America, mannn! Jesus Christ, I think I'm ready for summer. Actually, I think was ready about a month ago, when I started skipping school to go smoke and do other questionable things because anything is more worthwhile than Filley spouting off EVERY SINGLE DAY about the death penalty and his ex-wife.

I love my life.