I’ve had this scab on my knee since I fell outside of Detroit bar when the Allah Las were trying to sneak us into Avalon and I was wearing Haley’s shoes. That was a long fucking time ago.
Cool Guy has Chill Day
in ninth grade my friend tried to set me up with the first guy in this video
(Source: nicklugo, via theseventhsun)
I’ve had this scab on my knee since I fell outside of Detroit bar when the Allah Las were trying to sneak us into Avalon and I was wearing Haley’s shoes. That was a long fucking time ago.
acting like a man to shelter myself from the emotional vulnerability associated with femininity
And on top of all of that, let’s remember that I have to look perfect, act perfect, and live the perfect life. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I sent in my 2012-2013 FAFSA and I’m taking an intro to business class over the summer because it’ll be an easy A.
My greatest frustration is not knowing the kind of person I want to be. I have a good idea of who I am at present, but I know full well that what I do now will have a direct effect on the person that I become. Do I want to the whole paint-by-numbers route to success, where I go to college, continue to develop extra-curricular contacts, and eventually work my way into a high profile booking agency/marketing firm/etc? Or do I want to do what I always do, which is find an alternative path and still end up at my expected destination? I don’t know if my inability to conform has more to do with my mistrust of institutionalized and monetized “success” or my own insecurities. I want a high profile career. I don’t want to take the average path to get there. Maybe I’m just lazy? But then again, the most interesting, successful people that I know didn’t graduate from a prestigious four year. Plus, the economy is complete shit and I’m not sure I want to take out a ton of loans to earn a degree that I may not even need. At future dinner parties the “where did you go go to school?” question will probably get old, and I will probably be excluded from some fraternizing for being a wayward college dropout, but who cares? Do I care? Obviously, since it bothers me this much. But, will I care? I don’t know. The present and future are uncertain and that’s where my doubt lies. And my excitement.
I’m really bad at gauging time so I forget that I’ve only been eighteen for eight months. I feel like I should be living on my own, supporting myself with an expendable income. But that isn’t realistic. AT ALL. It’s the opposite of realistic. I have a tendency towards all or nothing thinking, so I often berate myself for being a lazy good for nothing money sucking ingrate one second and pride myself for being a hyper mature eighteen year old with the ability to run a business and make a perfect pastry dough the next. In the same vein, I alternate between thinking I’m overly confident and completely insecure.
My sister turns fourteen today. I almost forgot. I’m an asshole.
allah las hot tub party why
I hate being at my house and I don’t know why. Every thing that comes out of either my mom or my sister’s mouth makes my skin crawl. They have good intentions and I love them, but being here gives me the same sensation I get when I walk into Sears.
don’t read this literally had no where to keep my to do list because i’m on ashley’s computer
