001

I try to smile but I can’t force it. I feel no happiness in my heart, can find no reason to stop crying. I just want to leave. To go far away where no one will find me, no one will know about my past; somewhere that I can start anew, with no previous prejudices standing in the way. Despite what MLK wanted, we will never be judged by the content of our character. Never. No matter if you’re white, black, Asian, Indian, whatever. You will NEVER be judged by who you are. People always jump to profile you, they want you to fail. They want you to do something stupid so they can laugh at you. People suck, plain and simple. We walk around, acting all high and mighty, stepping on those below us. Did you know, it’s grammatically incorrect to refer to an animal as “he” or  “she”? Those are words that have been set aside solely for humans. Ridiculous. So now, because they can’t communicate the way we can, they are less of a being? That’s just really closed minded and ignorant to me. Is there somewhere in the universe where animals are seen as equals? Can I be taken there as soon as possible, please? All I want is to be somewhere pleasant, somewhere where I can be accepted, and where everyone is accepted.

I’ve had another of my many yearly epiphanies. I didn’t really have an exact moment, or a statement in my thoughts that brought on the epiphany, but it just has been spanning over the past week or so. First, when I was stoned, I was disgusted by eating meat. Isn’t that weird? I looked at it and just saw the animal it came from, and I spit it out. It was disgusting. If the plant shows me what meat really is, shouldn’t I follow its advice? Clearly it isn’t right to eat. I ate a lot this morning, meat and other things, but the meat kind of disgusted me. Like, it just doesn’t taste right. I’ve noticed lately that the best part of my meals have been the sides without any meat in them… I should pay attention to that. I will be vegan. And I will get down to 120 by college.

If I even get to go to college. Because I’ve been slacking preeetty badly on my school work. Oops? I really need to stop that. But I just have no desire to do anything. I sit here for hours, staring at the wall, not doing anything. And I just sit. And I wonder why my life ended up so shitty. I think about all the things I fucked up, I realize that I have huge gaps in my memory. I only remember about five or so days out of my whole summer… that doesn’t seem normal. I really just have no desire to do anything. I’m taking this lazy energy and transferring it over to eating. Be too lazy to eat, take the energy you use to eat and use it on homework. That’s what I’m trying to do now. It would have worked today, but really… I just didn’t do anything. I lie here, and didn’t eat or do anything. Hopefully tomorrow I won’t eat anything at all.

I just got home from my mom’s and my dad has only said two words to me. And even then, he was only bitching to me about something. And then nothing. Silence, for the whole car ride. Then I just got out of the car and came up to my room. That was… six hours ago? He hasn’t said a word to me. This may not be too out of the norm for some people, but me and my dad are kind of close. So it pisses me off when he sits there and acts like a fucking ten year old, and I have to be the adult. And then, the next day I’ll think we’re cool, and he’ll say, “So are you done being a bitch?” or, “Are you going to talk today?” Seriously? Don’t you understand that by your saying that, I just don’t want to talk to you again. That’s one of my pet peeves, it PISSES me off. And then I’m even madder than before and want to kill anyone who talks to me for the rest of the day. Hopefully I can get up early enough and get out of talking to him for another day. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

I can feel all of my high-school relationships slowly disintegrating, not that I really mind. It’ll just make the transition into college easier. Too bad I’m going to a college filled with stuck up prudes who think “gettin’ drunk, man” is the only kind of partying there is. I only smoke weed, but by some idiotic fucking reason that’s beyond me, a bunch of misinformed kids think that marijuana is the devil. I fucking hate kids like that, and in less than a year I’m going to be surrounded by them. There has to be at least one more stoner going to that school… there HAS to be. And I will find them; it’s a small ass school. They probably won’t want to hang out with me, which will suck. But I’m sure, once they see that we are each other’s only hope at keeping the pothead subculture alive at that school, they’ll give in and be friends with me. I’m so pathetic.

I can’t listen to Mac Miller anymore. I used to worship him, but now I just can’t do it. I’ve been listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, Oasis, Muse and the Killers. I can’t listen to Mac Miller. Because he reminds me of things that I so desperately want to forget. The first boy who told me he loved me. Not in a friend way. I’d been told that before by a boy I was in love with, but I knew he was just saying in a friend way. But THIS guy meant it. And then… I don’t know. I don’t want to get into it because I’m trying reeeallly hard to forget. Hence why I can’t listen to Mac Miller, because I kind of associate Mac with this guy. Shitty. When I talk to a guy next time, I need to remember just to NOT listen to any music. Or listen to music that I hate. That way, when I hate him, I won’t have to stop listening to a song that I used to like. Because I right now I just hate all of Mac’s songs, and I used to love them. Used to rap all the words in my car on the way to school. Now I can’t stand it. Turn that shit off. Get it out of my head.

I think I’m a bit neurotic, what do you think? You can tell the truth, I won’t get mad. I kind of think that I WANT to have something wrong with me. I want to be sick. I want people to worry, to call me crazy. I like crazy. A boy in my class called me a hippie, and I took it as a compliment. I was flattered, really. I now like that boy a lot. It doesn’t hurt that he’s attractive. I’m not planning on pursuing him or anything like that, seeing as how it would never work out and I’m definitely not his type, but still. I’m flattered, and he’s a sweet boy. My goal persona for college is now to be, “that chill hippie chick.” This will include: growing out my shitty hair, buying a bunch of pro-weed shirts, becoming vegan, becoming chill, smoking more but being smarter, having a poodle named Marley, losing a shit ton of weight, and coming up with a style that even the preppiest of bitches will envy. Oh, and being a hilariously sarcastic bitch to everyone, in such a way that they can’t help but want to be my friend. I’ve got some work to do, but while I’m waiting for my body to catch up, I can work on all the other things. Like being a bitch. Which I hear I’m already quite good at. And until I’m reasonably decently sized, I’m just going to dress like a bum. Nothing to show off, don’t want any boys to distract me so I must repel them away. Hippies don’t lie. They don’t like popular things, which I already don’t. They don’t care what anyone thinks, which I kind of don’t. They don’t bathe and they don’t brush their hair. Which I have a tendency to do when I don’t have school. God I wish this was easier. Why can’t they have like, a manual. I would read that shit in a heartbeat. Well… I do have the first step to being a hippie; I have a blog. That has to count for something. I need more hemp jewelry. When I’m 18 I think I should go buy some from a headshop, along with a bubbler. That’d be sick. It’s just occurred to me that if I could write my essay in the same fluidity in which I write out my thoughts, then I would have had this fucking essay done a long time ago. I tried to pick a topic that I would be interested in, so that it wouldn’t be such a task to get myself to write it… but I guess that didn’t work out so well. I just need to chill. I can sleep later. Besides, hippies are supposed to look tired. And what better way to look tired than to not get enough sleep? I may as well procrastinate until like nine and then finish my essay at around eleven or twelve. And then sleep. And then wake up at 5:40 so I can wash my face and put on mascara, tousle my hair a bit, and wear some bum clothes. I don’t really have any bum clothes, because you should be skinny to wear bum clothes, and I don’t think I’d look nice in them. So I’ll settle for looking like shit in a pair of jeans. I’ll get the same amount of male attention, which is zero. That’s good.