the sticky tack

is letting me down major. john and yoko just won't stay on the damn door.


bob dylan was just i don't even know. my life will never be the same. these wonderful guys next to us gladly bought me beer, and i met a lady who was prob in her late 40s, shitfaced drunk. we talked loudly in the bathroom and she said that she never wants to look back and ask herself 'why didn't i...?'. it doesn't seem important and maybe it was the alchohol but that conversation changed my life.

i keep biting my lip and cutting it on accident, i should get a mouthguard?

started my dreadlocks, i miss socializing. i miss seeing ksquared's big hair and smiling face on the way to the midhigh(that dreadful dreadful place)and ginger's sweaters and flirting with no homo after lunch and calling cheyman a mancunt and telling coach rhein how much of a douchebag he is and taping stuff to his wall and gossiping with my drama teacher and creeping on my spanish teacher and flirting in broken spanish with oscar and telling dclark my uncle says hey and calling my art teacher una punta loco and being bitches to the freshman in 4th hour and sleeping in biology and eating fries with honey mustard and cookies with milk with pookie at lunch and sneaking off after school to have a cigarette and telling marsh i want his dick and being late every morning with my coffee in my hand and flirting with the cute drama boys while avoiding the ugly ones and walking through those halls like i fucking own the place.

i'm going to teach myself the things they don't teach you in school.