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Starring down the barrel of my revolver [entries|friends|calendar]
Half Cocked and Fully Loaded

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[15 Jun 2006|11:13pm]
[ mood | aggravated ]

So today some of us helped Van coach the kids at the JCC. I don't EVER want kids.

One of them gave me a bloody lip! And they were all short so they'd wind up, jump, and hit you in the face or chest with their little sticks. I knocked like 15 of them down though, so I guess it's okay.

Jamie Reegs pegged a little girl with the ball! My hero.

[5| fire at will]

[14 Jun 2006|11:04pm]
[ mood | Hysterical (the bad kind) ]

UGH! I'm just so upset. Why are my friends so insensitive?! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME! and I know no one actually even likes me. You all think that I'm terrible and im just a burden and we're friends because you feel sorry for me. I hate my life.

[12| fire at will]

[14 Jun 2006|10:25pm]
[ mood | contemplative/sad/INFINITE ]

Oh my gosh you guys, livejournal. I haven't written in here in like sooo long. I bet everyone forgot about mine. Things are just so sad. And beautiful. And sad :(

Oh and I saw the most beautiful sunset the other day. I just felt INFINITE. Or maybe I'm just grasping at straws in an effort to hide the fact that im confused, depressed for no reason and BORING. Gosh I love my friends. We are just so great. I love them more than *insert overly adorable/somewhat nauseating phrase here*! And the other day, we went on a walk to just, you know, think. It was so beautiful and infinite and beautiful. Wait did I already say beautiful? Probably! I think everything is beautiful! I look for every attempt to show this to people so that they think I have a poetic soul. They think I do, even though no one knows what that is. We're all infinite. I also take perfectly good ideas from books and make failed attempts to apply them to my everyday life so that I have an excuse for overanalyzing my life. This way it's okay that I'm afraid to actually live it. Also I like ruining truely fascinating and original ideas for other people by doing so. I hope nobody figures out that I'm a fake and everything I do is pretend. I'm an idiot! Sigh. Someone tell me how much they love me. I want attention. I don't think anyone cares about me, and I say things like that because I want you to tell me the opposite. Sigh. My sheltered, mostly imaginary life is so hard. Nobody understands me.

[8| fire at will]

[23 Jan 2005|08:22pm]
[43| fire at will]

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