Do I get my lap dance now?
I know it won't let me be.
Augh, I'm such a depressed maniac. Shoot me.
That's all I ever have to write in here. I should really
switch from writing punk and pop songs to blues. I need a
So the person I want to beat with a stick this week isn't
April anymore. Horray for April. She has a driving
license. How could I possibly be mad at her when I can bum
Okay, that's not the real reason she's off my shit-list.
She's been bumped from the number one spot by this stupid
girl named Samantha, who finds some sick pleasure in
rubbing in my face my lack of sex. I was unwillingly
dragged over to her house last Friday so she could invade
my sacred coffee night, and the first thing she says to me
is "So Lara, when ya gettin' laid?" Fuck you. Like I
don't torture myself enough. Just fuck you staight to hell.
Yeah, so my self esteem is near a record low. I'll
probably spend the rest of the night in heart wrenching
misery, feeling sorry for myself. I don't know why it's
taken me so long to get the full impact of the situation.
Maybe I've just now stopped being pissed and converted all
my madness to depression.
I wish I had some real issues to deal with. I feel like
such a brat for being miserable over something so stupid.
current mood: miserable, dejected, hopeless, upset,
current tune: Patsy Cline - I've Got Your Picture.
current advice: there's better stuff to do in the middle of
the night than drive around town, stealing yard gnomes.