My head is buzzing right now. There's so many things I want to say.
I finally got tired of changing my blog title constantly, so now it's going to stay.
I want to be comfortable. I want to be in sweats and a tank top, sipping hot chocolate in front of a warm fire, underneath a blanket, both cats (and Jake) curled up against me, maybe reading a good book. But right now I'm barefoot, my damp pantlegs are rolled up, I desperately need a shower, and I'm sitting in an uncomfortable rolly chair typing.
My dad seems to think that all my friends secretly hate me and/or are plotting against me. Like, if someone's doing something else and can't hang out, he acts like they just don't want to hang out with me. Like, really?? Way to make me feel better about myself. Why is it so hard to understand that I DO have friends that, for whatever reason, actually like me?
I really want to write a story about regular people. No one beautiful, no one magical, no one powerful. Just people.
Her name is Alexandra Catillo, she's slightly overweight, has longish blonde hair, brown eyes, and acts Goth so she has someone to sit with at lunch. She has an eight-year-old brother named Eric who's obsessed with pirates (or something) and two homely parents who dated in high school (or something). She has a crush on Daniel Janges, the cute quiet boy who sits in the back of the class and doesn't talk to anyone, because she doesn't like to talk to people either. She's generally lethargic, hates the color red, wishes she could be popular, and turns bright pink whenever she thinks someone's looking at her. She likes to be outside, likes to be warm, but doesn't like wearing short sleeves because they expose her "massive" arms. She has a wide mouth and a small nose. She's that girl you know but don't really know. She's that girl that wishes she could be you cuz then she wouldn't have to be her.
I'm now going to take a shower and try very hard not to think about tomorrow.
Oh, and last night I had a dream where a whole bunch of people I knew (Happy, Aaron, some fat chick I didn't know, Basil, Apple, and some other guys) all went on a boat. I was messing around with my friends, running around the boat, when I collapse in a seat across from Basil. He then proceeds to tell me he hates me, he will always hate me, and I should stay at least three feet away from him at all times.
I want to say "I know" or ask him why he hates me but I can't speak. I just stare straight ahead, numb, cold, alone, trying not to feel his eyes burning holes through me.
Then, in school, I start to cry.
When I woke up, I cried too.