I held the world on my shoulders, but the day you died I let go. And it wasn't fair to carry the world on my shoulders. But it wasn't fair for you to die and make me drop the world. And then I had to pick it back up from wherever dusty corner the world rolled to. And it wasn't fair.
I guess that's what you get, a grace period with everyone where you're allowed to be like, publicly sad for a month. And then they get over it so you have to get over it too. And then when you're not the same anymore they ignore you. You're annoying to them. And yourself. And it's not fair.
And it's nobody's fault. It just happens, and I think it'd be like that if I were 16, 21, or even 30.
It must suck when you're older and your parent dies. Nobody is as sad for you because they think you had all that time with them or whatever.
But that's not fair.
And it's nobody's fault.
Write about a brief, but scary encounter with one of your teachers.
Mr. Roche was racist. And Francis was black. And Francis ran his mouth sometimes, or he would be rude. Normally teachers would address trouble makers in private, but not Mr. Roche. He'd yell and explain all these weird conditions about respect. It was odd, because how can you preach respect when you're so biased to trivial things such as race and stereotypes?
Once he really lost it on Francis. I don't blame him, Francis was a really ignorant, beligerant person. But when Mr. Roch had one of his tantrums, he also let it out on the rest of the class, and then he'd check out, or sit at his desk ignoring us while we tried to do the assignments like refugees after an earthquake; anxious, but trying to be hopeful. On that day, we had a big assignment due, and it was almost the end of the class. I needed to pass it in. After a few moments of letting him kinda brood, I went to his desk, near the inbox. "Fuckit," I thought, "I need to pass this in..."
You had to kind of reach over him to put assignments in the inbox assignment holder thing, so I politely said "Excuse me, Mr. Roche, I just wanted to pas-" He stopped me mid sentence.
"You Tatas are all the same. You don't know when to shut up, and your all so obnoxious, because you think you're important or something." (My dad was working at this school, but in another grade, and my brother was in the same grade as me. ) I put my paper in the inbox and backed away, blinking at hot tears.
What had I done? What had he meant by that? I was quiet as a motherfucking mouse most of the time, and I did my work and I tried pretty hard. My dad was a quiet man, a good teacher. And my brother..Well, he could be kind of obnoxious, but he hadn't matured yet. I went back to my desk, crying, and other people in the class were asking me questions in worried whispers, because they, like me, had been afraid to pass in their assignments,to
I has boyfriend. And he doesn't live in my computer. PROGRESS.
Tomorrow celebrates 16 years of my life. It feels like it's a long time.But it's really not. And you know what's really weird? I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. Is it supposed to be like a second puberty? Do I immediately grow breasts? Does my nose become pierced on the side automatically? Do I look down and have a full head of pubes?>.> I don't know.
It honestly just means that I can get a job, and start driver's ED. (Which I'm mortified about. I'm soo scared. But I figure I can probably do it. Just..I'm horrible at Mario Kart...Soyeah.) It's so weird.
My birthday dinner is chicken nuggets and Macaroni and cheese. (Because I'm 4).
I'm a level 15 and 364/365ths virgin. So, today as my last day of 15, I'm going to make hemp bracelets. I'm going to play L4D. I'm going to do my homework , and listen to music and build a snowfort and this weekend some of my friends will come over and we'll throw snow at each other for like an hour and a half, and then we'll nom some cake. Friday my dad's boyfriend is taking my brother and I out to eat for dinner. (My brother is my twin.)
So, right now, I'm gonna go make some bracelets and shit. Porkchop, out.
Rp? Maybe? Yeah?
Hi there. I'm going to give you the meanest look I can, so that even though I'm already much more pretty, and much more popular than you'll ever hope to be, you'll still feel like a horrible ugly bug even though I don't know you. Good. Go into the stall. I'll be here, glaring at you and waiting for my friend who's much more pretty, and much more popular than you to come out of the bathroom so we can go do something much more cooler than you. Ew. You're using the bathroom. Everyone else uses the bathroom. But you using the bathroom is super disgusting. So when I leave the bathroom I can make a mean comment to my friend about how ugly and short you are and maybe she'll laugh and it'll make us feel better about ourselves and our pointless existences. See, we belong to a subculture that involves being horribly mean to everyone else, in the hopes that maybe we'll make more friends. We'll listen to horrible music and barrage people with it, making fun of anything that isn't what we like. I'll put huge motherfucking plugs in my ears so that people will know how different I am from you.
-I'm pretty sure this is what goes through this girls mind as I walk into the girls bathroom and she's waiting by the door, ready to give me the meanest, venomous look she can while I just make it to the stall, and pray her friend finishes and goes. I went to middle school with you. You were rude and mean, but pretty, so everyone liked you. So it's still the same, except with a class of more than 400 kids and other grades, making the student population over 1000. But you're still friends with everyone who's "cool". So that makes it okay for you to be mean to people you don't know.
Fucking A, man. What's wrong with everyone anymore?
So I grew some hair. And I got my navel pierced. Weren't those goals from long ago?
I've lost some weight,surpris
I'm starting to think I have some form of sleep disorder. I'm so tired,all the fucking time, but I can never fall asleep on my own... :/ Mom says it's a teenager thing, but I'm a little worried. So is Dad and David. I'm starting to realize that I'm not as bad as I think I am. Like..I'm not that much of a loser. I'll never be "cool". But whatever. I don't need that. All I need it some friends. That's it. So instead of spending my Saturday nights masturbating and playing pokemon, maybe I need to plan some more hang-outs. There's this little book store that lets bands play. Maybe I could meet some people. Or get some new books. Either way; something to do. I mean, don't get me wrong, Pokemon and masturbating are pretty fun. Just not consecutively over your entire life.
I'm changing. And I kinda like it,I guess. I dunno how, but I'm maturing. It's weird. So weird, in fact, that I'm going to go play Pokemon...[and probably masturbate. -__-]
So,today I'm getting a hollow needle shoved through my navel.[Bellybutton piercing]
I'm secretly terrified. But whatevs. I heard its supposed to hurt. <.<
My mom had to go to the hospital. She's going to be an in-patient. :/
Recently I saw an old teacher from my middle school days. He's this pear-shaped man with a shiny shiny head (meaning he is bald or has magnificent hair that is like a motherfucking disco ball), and him being pear shaped, he also has a round tummy and thunder thighs/ legs. Have you ever played field hockey? If you haven't imagine the "Bad News Bears", but with wooden sticks on the ground chasing after a ball. Its like..hardcore polo or croquet. So anyways. The teacher/parent game was when the parents and teachers scrimaged the field hockey girls. Which sounds exciting and fun, but not when its in the 40's and you're running around in a skirt and overweight parents (like..trolls or something) are chasing you around for a little orange ball that weighs less than a baby but more than an actual orange. So this big pear-shaped man is running into my circle of defense, and I have to get the orange motherfucker out of my area before they score a goal and this big BEAR of a guy runs up to me as I swing for the ball, trying to chuck it out onto the otherside of the field, and when I turn to hit the ball he's trying to jump over me. And for a second he almost made it over me. Until gravity kicked in. Not fun when a grown overweight man trys to jump over you and messes the fuck up.
Wanna watch me talk at you on my computer?
Holly: I'mma go to bed sooneh
BellaSue: Me, too.
Holly: Want me to read you a bedtime story?
Holly: Once upon a time there was an ugly barnacle. He was so ugly that everyone died.
Holly: And then J.K Rowling beat up Stephenie Meyer by bludgeoning her to death with Robert Pattinson's massive forehead.
BellaSue is typing...
Holly: So then Kristin Stewart was all "I'M GOING TO STARE AT YOU DUMBLY AND HOPE IT CHANGES WHAT JUST HAPPENED. LOOK AT MY BEAVER TEETH BITE MY WEIRD LIPS."
Holly: And so as she stood there being retarded, Taylor Lautnet sued a trailer company because he needs a fucking trailer now, now three days late.
Holly: And then Suemya and Holly hid under Holly's bed and read comic books and manga until it was time for tea,and Suemya and Holly got up and went and had deelishous tea on the moon.
Holly: The end.