I have three fucking roommates. THREE. Not one, not two, THREE. God knows what they're like. I'm trying to be as optimistic as possible about this whole thing, but I can't help to think of the worst. And now I'm gunna have to come home all the time for fucking community service. It's just a lot to deal with. I'll deal with it though, like everything else I'm forced to deal with. Like I deal with the shit you put me through. 


It's like I always want the best for the people I love the most. Unless, that is, I begin to suspect that what is best for them is to have a taste of second-best for a while. You're becoming too presumptuous. I'm starting to feel taken for granted. Boys will be boys I suppose. I've never been one to work out differences that I don't deem important. Maybe that's my problem. 

Don't think that I'm pushing you away, when you're the one who I've kept closest.

I'm dreading next Thursday. I'll get through it though. 

When something makes me feel sad, I really ought to feel glad. Sources of sorrow lead to wise choices that can only bring me greater strength and happiness. Unless, that is, they are allowed to turn into sources of resentments. It is only when I feel bitter that I begin to make mistakes. It is essential that I extend kind thoughts and feelings towards all the people and situations that may have contributed towards a sense of discomfort and disappointment. The more I do that, the happier I will be.

but 14 bitch? Really? Really?