today was pretty damn busy. wokeupcalledchongdidntpickup(ofcourse)skippedjazzercise(gratz).

showeredbrushedate. tookouttrashwenttotargetstoleacouplelintrollersbought3books:

deathlyhollows

1984

animalfarm

ineedtokeepmymindbusyithinkillfollowshawn'sexampleandseehowifeelafternotblazingforafew

monthswenttothethingwascoolsawalotofpeoplei'vemissedbowledwenthomechillwithsistomorrow

isanotherareameetingthoseguysfuckingannoymegonnabeabusydayswimmingmeetingonmonday

andeurotestandgovpresentationfuckigottastepitupnomoredistractions...

why do i now feel regret? i remember the first time i saw her. i remember how ben and i pointed

her out every time we saw her sophomore year. i remember how lucky i felt when we took the

sats together. why did i stop caring when i had finally gotten there? this wont stop happening.

just how many more times?

this is going to bother me for a while...