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Sorry for second post, I want to share my new favorite song.

I know not all of you are Christian, but I adore this band, especially this song. Strify <3

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Warning, True Story. >.<

The conversation following is a true story, as accurate as I can remember. >.>. Mom is very racist and homophobic.

Mom-(talking about my sister) And she moved from being a Fag Hag to a Nigger Hag
Me- Er, what's wrong with being either one of those?
Mom- Nothing, just, uh...
Me- Why give it a negative connotation?
Mom- Because it's getting her in a lot of trouble....
Me- So you're implying all black people and gay people get people in trouble?
Mom- ...
Me- I'm going to laugh when I bring home a gay black friend.
Mom- You better not!
Me- Why not?
Mom- Because you're not gay.

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Fired Up. o_o

Homophobes have me fired up.

I'm ready to come out.

To everyone.

Even homophobic Mom.

should I?

How should I?

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New poem! ^_^

It's unfinished. heellppp meee!

Take another puff;
Cut a little deeper;
Swallow the bottle;
Whatever it takes to end it.
The pain. The tears. The hurt.
Just to stop that flow.
Never ending
Right into your heart, your soul.
The pain I feel.
How long will it last?
A pistol rests in my hand.
BANG! A shot to the head.
End it all in a flash of white.

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Fail Sober Streak is Fail.

Yep, your good buddy Chris did it again. And by "it", I mean teh awesomeness that is weed. It's so...well, lemme start by clarifying that I'm not doing it to be cool. In no way am I doing it out of pressure. But when I'm offered it, I accept. It does what self harm and pills do for others. It just, releases me. It takes away the thoughts of the future, any worries in my head, the stress I'm under, and throws it away. I laugh when I'm high. I enjoy life, in that brief two or three hour period that I'm "under the influence".

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Random Loss of Writer's Block?!

I'll make a real journal tomorrow, but it's 1:30 and I just HAD to write this when the first line came surgin' through my brain. I'm not epic at poetry, but here it is. O_o.

Where did it go?

Where did we go?

Down that path of no return...

You promised we'd make it back.

You said it'd be the same.

So why am I regretting it all?

Why am I looking back and thinking of you?

It's all that occupies my brain...

Your face,

Your eyes,

The way your lips felt against mine...

We can't go back to what we had before.

When you were my best friend.

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Went to my First Barnes and Nobel. O_O

And the first book I spot on a shelf is "It Gets Better", the one by Dan Savage...yeah, I move straight towards it, but Mom's voice brings me back to reality, and I move around the isle, to where the Teen section is. I pick up and purchase "I am number 4", because I heard it was epicness, but I keep thinking about "It Gets Better" because I heard AWESOME things about it, so while mom and dad were glancing at Magazines, I pick it up, snatch a book off the teen section shelf (which ended up being House of Night, my favorite novel ever) and I sit in this cozy chair in the Starbucks they had.

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Claiming you're mature, then being immature about stuff?

So, I have this "friend"...let's call her...well, you all know her, I've talked about her. Jami? Ring a bell? Well, as you know, her boyfriend and I got into a little spat on facebook about music, and which stuff is better, and he's all "I like hardcore shit, cause i'm a hardcore dude, LOLOLOLOL" and I'm like "Er, I like Gaga and shi because she actually sings about stuff in her heart, and she's passionate...not just about drugs and sex and raping and killing" so then I blocked him. Then, Jami got mad at me, saying it was very immature.

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Stupid Essay, as our stupid final...

OUR FUCKING ENGLISH FINAL...is to write a 5 paragraph essay comparing the Book "To Kill a Student's Faith in their english teacher" to the movie form. :/ I have the first paragraph puked up already...

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RAWR PISSED AT THE WORLD. FFFFFUUUUUUU....>.<

Lets go over the things right now that make me want to go the fuck off on someone, or result to my...old...method...more on that in a later journal...

1) I still have to finish my Algebra 2 Final, yet I have NO IDEA WHERE I PUT MY NOTES. I could have FUCKING SWORE THAT I PUT THEM IN MY ROOM. GUESS WHERE THEY ARE? NOT THERE.....AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

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Cleaned up my tears...again.

Saturday School again this weekend. Why? Because I hate all the seniors in band, thus making me skip, thus leading up to 21 band absenses, thus leading to saturday school to make up the credit. Ffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...But yeah, in other news, I told mom "Hey, if I don't want the credit, i can just not go" (let it be said that I was in a bad mood from only 2 hours of sleep, 2 finals today, and the normal high school bullying shizz.) and she's all "YOU MUST GOOOO.

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Official Return say WWWHHHAAATTT?

Yeah, I guess I'm back. It's boring not typing a journal everynight. So yeah, here's life and shit.

As of now, I'm in a facebook fight (so tempted to say "Relationship", but alas, none.) with this kid Dakota, arguing about music. I say "Gaga pwns, rock sounds the same" and he's all "LOL Born dis way...JK...rock pwns" and he has no real arguement, he's sounding redundant. XD But yeah, I'm standing up for teh Gaga, because...chu guessed it...
LITTLE MONSTER FOR LIFE.
So yeah

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this "not making journals" thing is boring...buuuutttt...

I will just make them unopinionated. So, my life right now.

-Finals Week. Meh.
-Seniors left. Meh.
-Crush got a BF. Meh.
-Mom's being creepy when I'm trying to push her away. Meh.
-Favorite Teacher is putting together a Freshman Slideshow, and getting us Freshman Shirts. Double Meh.

well, that's it. :/
Meh.

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Seeing as how 50% of this site is composed of assholes...

I've decided I'm done expressing my opinion. I felt as though this site values expression, but I've had my feeling, thoughts, and beliefs stomped on countless times. So I'm done. No more journals, and only rare comments. If you want to actually talk to me about life, feel free to PM me. Other than that, whatever, right?

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SCARRED...FOR...LIFE...AAAAAAHHHHH.

Okay, so I was on Swimmerguy's journal, with the huge ass cyst or whatever, and I was reading these comments. I've seen 2 girls 1 cup, so I should've left when I realized the comparison....but no. My curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself opening an InPrivate Browsing Session, to get to know what the BME Pain Olympics are all about..

OH
MY
GOD

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