Toll Road Ends, Nightmare Begins

She knows what I think about.

Fucking rain. I couldn't even see driving home. I was blasting some music, blind. It was awesome. Then I stopped by the pool to see what it looked like with rain flooding into it. Better than diamonds. I was soaking wet, but I love the rain. I just had wished I was with someone, because crazy people can make the dumbest moment perfect. I need to find some more cool people in this world. I know they're out there. But like I said, I don't know if I can ever really be in love. I like being single too much... I just know that if I ever do get in a serious, stable relationship, I will miss my privacy so much. I love being alone. But I love people. Argh why am I fucked up.

A year ago, I was starting my freshman year at Notre Dame. I was waiting to see Zach. I was missing him. I was homesick. I was happy to be in a new place. I was bubbly. But I was just waiting for the shit to start. Now when I look back, I realize I was living life, I was just kinda doing it wrong. [???]. I love how every year, things are so different. Right now? I'm just looking at everybody, seeing how beautifully normal they are. I love it. I love that being crazy is being normal.

Everyone will love me more.

But the problem is that I'm stuck in my head. I still plan my future ahead, I trip over my own feet. Fressh. I've missed out on so much. If I have a daughter and she starts drinking and fucking around with 20 year olds, I will be so proud. I've been paralyzed for FOREVER, now I'm just starting to see something. Do you know how I feel? So many people are lucky enough to not get like this. Not even give a fuck. They suffer in other ways, but I hate my way. I hate that I can't get away from my words. There's like this string tied from my hands to my mind, and I want to cut it so bad. I'm itching. When I drove past the Drag and all that shit I don't know the name of, or when my coworkers start talking about normal, intelligent shit, I get so nervous. I get so "they-can-see-me-they-can-see-I'm-fake". I want to not smile for a year. I want to laugh and cry all day. I really want to live in my car for 3 months. [Bukkett Li$t bi@tc#]. I think I'm gonna dye my hair pink or blonde or both, buy a big white rapist van, and drive to San Fran. All once I fall in love. I'm so fucked.

Swingin' party... So what else. Nothing. I'm just keeping my head above water swimmingly. Then I'm going to do my homework.

I hate playing the victim (but only because I think a lot), but you kinda fucked me over. I've come to the realization that everyone's gonna fuck me over in some way or another, but your way was dangerous. I'd be a C student. I'd be pregnant. I'd be drunk. But I guess one day, I'd have a shot at real happiness. Do I still now? Is it too late? Maybe I'm just 19 and dramatic and wishing I had some vodka. Or an older guy to buy me some. Even better. Free vodka, my favorite kind.

I'm getting a headache!!!!!!