Greetings, fellow bloggers. It's your one and only mango-eating machine blogging right now.
Last night, I watched "The Time Traveler's Wife" starring Rachel McAdams and Eric Bana. I enjoyed the movie and a dinner too. Haha, I think I ate onion rings, fries, and half a mushroom burger. Yum! It was a sad movie, but still good. Ha, Brad Pitt is the excutive producer for the movie. You know, just to throw that in there for random facts.
My dad thinks if I get highlights that suddenly people will have no respect for me. Fuck it. That shit doesn't make any sense. It's completely illogical. How are highlights and respect connected? Dude, my father has the weird ideas that bloom from who knows where. I feel like punching someone. My hands are feel charged and ready. Good thing I'm typing face or else I would've thrown the lamp across the room.
This is my last week before my high school career starts. It sounds so official: last week before my high school career begins. A journey ends. A new journey begins. *deep breathe* The whole prospect is breath-taking, exciting, and intense. Although, I'm disappointed that I share no classes with none of my friends, I'm a bit excited about joining new clubs and meeting new people...guys too?
Occasionally I feel like a blog is the one place I can be honest and real, where I don't have to weigh my words and worry about I'm supposed to say and what everyone is going to think and who I'm supposed to be. When I blog, I don't have to smile and pretend I'm fine even though inside I feel like I'm breaking into a thousand tiny fragments too small ever to be put together again.
I'm so fucked up.
What I don't understand is this: How did something I hate so much end up controlling every moment of my life?
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