i really wish my advisor wouldn't say 'your writing is very juvenile and you completely missed the point of the assignment' and then give me a b.

yesterday was fabulous but i really hate summarizing my day. just a boi and his two faghags traipsing about the bigot capital of ohio. you know how that is. hahaha...

but you know, the whole day i just felt guilty about the horrible things i'd written about my mom the night before, envisioning the scenarios that would follow her decision to read my diary for the first time. and thinking about how she'd said to me that morning, 'can i do it all over again?' and how she always says things like that now, and i know i would choose to not be born if it would mean her getting the chance to do it all right. i really would.

i don't hate my mother. i'm just unbelievably selfish.

i've replaced trying really hard to be tragically negative with trying really hard to be inspiringly positive. someday i will just try to be.

i don't want to hate myself for things i did another person ago, and i don't want to let myself off the hook so easily.

i will never be one to blame my emotions on being a girl. but though it's really exciting to know i'm eating well enough to bleed at least every other month, i have not missed cramps.

it feels like yesterday never happened. that sucks.

i can't honestly remember if i listened to the entire thing three years ago. i'm afraid i didn't. and that sucks.

i'm going to finish wuthering heights tonight if it kills me. i haven't finished a single book yet this summer. and that sucks.

my writing is juvenile and i've completely missed the point.

it only kills me 'cause i'm alive.
jude