Satan School of Sophomores

Not a Good Look: 1/10/15

9:20am Saturday, January 10

Every morning my jaw pops back into place.

I had a bad dream.
I had two good dreams.

Good: I had a dream I went to Sydney, Australia, and there was fireworks. My whole family was together, and I was so happy. Everything looked beautiful.

Good: I went to a house party at a really cool house, I saw a bunch of celebrities. Then, I was apart of Twilight, and Bella kept saying, "What do we do????"

At the house party I saw Calum Hood and Luke Hemmings. I nearly passed out, but I went up and said hello and shook their hands(???). Then I fell right over and I woke up in the sun. Where'd 5sos go? I tried to take a picture of my surroundings, but my phone wasn't working. Typical.

Bad: I'm roommates with Scarlet in this tiny little apartment in Australia, coincidentally (probably not coincidentally). One day, Scarlet's boyfriend comes over, and he's mad, because she broke up with him. He comes over in nothing but Seahawks boxers that look like they were knitted by hand. I guess maybe Scarlet knitted those. He's really, really hot. Abs, v lines, whatever. All that junk that freaks me the fuck out. I say, "Are those Seahawks boxers??"
He replies, "Yes, blondie."
Then, out of nowhere, that creep starts chasing me around (I don't know where Scarlet went at this time). All of a sudden I'm at my house, but he's still chasing me around. Eventually, I get tired, slow down, he catches up quick, wraps his arms around me, I wiggle away. I face him and kick him as hard as I can in the balls. I was barefoot, and somehow my toenail jammed up in his balls. He's like grabbing my leg trying to get me to release his balls from the hook I've got in them with my toenail. I'm in shock and watch while he writhes in pain. It was funny. But, he gets my nails dislodged and lunges at me. I run off, and through various traps and tricks, he gets roughed up pretty bad. I have to lock him out of my house, and he looks like a scary zombie.
Finally, Scarlet comes back and starts laying him down on my damn couch and cleaning up his wounds. I still hate that bastard, so I walk up to him, his eyes are close, relaxing, and I take a small bottle of liquid acrylic paint and spray it in his eyes. His eyes turn red and start burning out like acid. I thought I had blinded that bitch, but no. He gets up, chases me outside until we get to a cliff near my house. I weigh my options, he kills me or I kill myself, then I jump of the cliff. Committing suicide.

After the dream ended in my death, I woke up panting and couldn't catch my breath. I was heavily breathing, and I was so scared, I nearly got out of bed to tell my mom I had a nightmare. It was 5:26am. A few moments later, I was out like a light, and that's when I had the good Australian dreams.

9:25am
Some kid at school yesterday texted me saying he masturbates to the thought of me. I laughed.

My Instagram and Facebook refuse to work. Dammit.

11:03am
My bitchy aunt had the nerve to say, "Boys who own cats are weirdos." I almost punched her dumb face. Boys who own cats are regular people, you dumb fuck. I hate people who say stereotypical shit like that. She's such an ass.

4:37pm
I ate a lot of food, and my boobs are extremely sore.

I can't decide if I have an amazing amount of self-control or if I'm just a wimp.

Looking at old bod pics of myself from last spring/summer. Hot. Fucking. Damn. Why did I hate myself? My legs and my stomach and everything was banging. Why do I have such a skewed perception of perfection?

5:14pm
I wish I had a nice ass. Ugh. It makes me wanna cry.

11:40pm
So what if I'm a virgin? Everyone tries to make me feel bad about it, but they're the ones who are majorly fucked up. I'm a virgin! Not a psychopath! Not a thief! Not a cheater! So why do people try to make me feel bad about being something that everyone once was or is? I'm human, but I'm far from weak.

I think that if I were to go have sex tomorrow, I'd fall madly in love with that person. I'm very emotional. I'd go crazy. I'd be messed up in the mind, because they probably wouldn't love me back. It's not a good look for me.