Bod Mod

Okay, so I would love a fucking explanation as to why people with body modification have problems getting jobs. My piercing is not unhealthy. My tattoo is not going to contaminate anything. It does not produce some sort of inability to be a normal person. I take it extremely personally when someone judges somebody based on their aesthetics. Close your eyes...is it the same person because you cannot see them? I don't think so. So why is everyone SO hung up on superficial judgement? If something is wrong with me for having ink, then something is wrong with you for having a narrow mind and no artistic appreciation. Who are you to tell me that I'm less of a person based on the way I look? You might as well be racist.

Sleep.

I crave sleep. It's almost 2am as I write this. I'm so tired, but my mind is racing with all the things that are supposed to be finished that aren't. It keeps me up. I just got off the phone with Zane, & while I should be drifting into sleep, I'm worrying about tomorrow.

I have a lot on my mind. I wish I could find peace. I suppose it will come to me if I wait long enough.

My sanity has run away.

Update of sorts...

I haven't written in quite some time. Little things here and there, but as far as actually sitting down and spilling my guts, no. I've been working all Summer. No time to just sit and be happy. I have so many emotions running through me. I feel trapped, and I wish I could just scream. I hate everything, and I have no reason. I want someone to get what's going on in my head, but I've closed myself off to the point that even if they did try, I wouldn't let them. I don't know what to do but work and sleep. I don't even like people any more. Just David. When I am acting like a human being, he's the only person I'll say more than two words to. Or at least be genuine with. Anything I say to anyone else is just to shut them up about when I'm being so lethargic. David's quite odd. He doesn't care about the fact that he's extremely different than everyone around him. He says whatever he wants, even if it's the silliest thing I've ever heard.

Senior year is about to start, and I'm the slightest bit petrified. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm probably the biggest fuck up of all. I don't see how I'm ever going to get into college. I don't see how I'm ever going to have enough money to get the hell out of this shit hole I live in. Everyone keeps telling me to be optimistic, but what the fuck will optimism get me other than disappointment.

I'm not a suicidal POS, I'm just angry. I'm angry at the world. I don't need a reason. I want to yell at everyone. I don't really care what anyone has to say about it.