hildeguardog's Diaryland Diary

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Not another teen angst entry

I am not doing too well. I passed up an invitation from Candice to go to the zoo. I'm assuming Alex was going, too. Now I don't want to go to band practice tonight, if that's what we do. I really just want to sit in a basement with a few people and drink. Like yesterday, but without people leaving.
I know that right now I should be doing my notecards for Brit Lit. 50 of 'em. But fuck it. Tomorrow's Sunday and the problem will be dealt with then. And Ms. McClinton can eat my ass for giving me a 50% on my bibliography notecards. That's the fucking encouragement I need to keep giving a fuck about school, specifically her class. I know how to fail. Trust me. I just wasn't planning on it this time around.
Oh, and why do all 4-day weekends turn into me at this computer by Saturday evening. Maybe if I knew people I wouldn't still be here. No, maybe if I could drive. Yeah, there you go. Maybe if I decided that gas is cheap and driving isn't a waste of time and money then I'd be happier. Maybe I find fault in too many things. In too many people, even. Nah, those people are full of the wrong that I see in them, or else it wouldn't be so fucking obvious.
Fuck addictions and fuck addicts, and fuck school and boredom and fuck thanksgiving, and fuck Sam, and problems and alarm clocks and cnn.com and "legal ages" and laws in general, and fuck cops and security guards that think they're cops, and fuck clowns and prostitutes, and fuck religion and "gods" and the cancer-causing incense they burn, and fuck sXe. Fuck sobriety. And Fuck off.

7:38 p.m. - Saturday, Nov. 27, 2004

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