A Journal

Tomorrow is my last day of High School. Either it hasn’t sunken in yet, or I really do hate this place and am ready to leave it forever.

I want another tattoo.

I want Gummy Bear to text me.

I want Gummy Bear to call me.

I want Gummy Bear to want me again.

I miss Gummy Bear.

I might be over Gummy Bear.

That is a sick nickname.

I graduate Friday.

My foot is asleep.

Vanilla Coke.

Gummy Bear is over me.

I’m probably okay with that.

I’m not okay with losing the friendship.

It happens every time.

I’m used to it.

A little girl dropped her cheeseburger on the floor and was very upset about it, quite understandably. Her mom is making her eat it. As a punishment. Eating food from the McDick’s floor is not a punishment. It’s shit. You are a shit parent. The girl is sobbing and rightfully so. I hate this woman.

You’ve made yourself the third wheel. Deal with it.

It probably shouldn’t make me laugh…eh.

Be professional. You’ll never have a successful business with this shit.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit.

Just shut the hell up.

Ditching my date and dancing with a Sophomore.

Awkward as hell. Felt like an idiot. You embarrass me. Eww.

I hate the process, but once I make a decision, it always feels great. These past few months have been full of decisions. I’m very happy.

That was anticlimactic, no pun intended.

;)

withalittlebitofpink:

Its taken me years to say what I’m about to say with 100% confidence: I am gay, I will marry a woman, and I have never been happier.

I’d like to keep you as an option.

We can get together when we’re in the same city, for a few days.

I’m okay with that.

I’d prefer that.

I’d just like us to make ourselves available to each other every now and then.

My class has worked for three years to raise that money. You can’t just take it. You said we can’t ask for donations for Senior Brunch, then you take our money from our account for some dumbass something or other, and expect us to put on a decent brunch? Like hell. We raised that. We worked our asses off. Our sponsors worked their asses off. It’s our money, dammit.

But I have a plan.

We’ll hit up every business in this county for donations, whether you like it or not.

This isn’t the first money bullshit from you people. Our money isn’t safe with you.

We’ll have a fabulous brunch. Fuck you.