10/21/19

Currently listening to "Bloodhail" by Have A Nice Life.

I misplaced my school computer and some bitch at the front desk is telling me that my parents will have to pay 50 bucks for a new one. My parents will hate me for that. We're broke as shit. SHE'S TRYING TO GUILT ME INTO FINDING MY COMPUTER. WHAT IS THE FUCKING LOGIC BEHIND THAT? They gave me a loaner temporarily, but said that if I can't find it by the end of the week I'll have to pay for a new one. My headphones don't even work with the loaner. I hate this school.

In art class we have this little ritual where we clap every time someone walks into the room. Today Jack booed when I walked in. You know what? I'm don't want to grant him the privilege of anonymity anymore. His name isn't Jack. It's Jackson. I hate that little shit. He has no sense of personal space. He accused me of "depressing" him because I wore black all the time. He tells me I should dye my hair blonde. He even tries to touch my hair. He asked me if I'm emo. He asked me if I'm trans. He asked me why I "became, like, gothic." He called a girl in my class fugly TWICE and the next day he got mad at her for "being mean" to him and when I called him out he said he never called her that. He always whines about problems with his family in circle. I couldn't care less. I hope that flamboyant obnoxious fuck gets hit by a truck (poem not intended).

I need someone right now. I'm alone with my own thoughts. I need someone who understands.

Today Amy told me that some 7th grade kid named Miguel said I "was a girl in 6th grade." I'm sick of letting people walk all over me, so I tried to find him. I failed. While I was in the bathroom, a bunch of kids started kicking the door of my stall really hard. Don't know who or why. I don't feel safe at this school.

I sneaked into the art room at lunch and stole an X-Acto knife. Cut my left hand 5 times. It barely even hurt. My mental pain is much worse than this physical pain.

I feel like I'm floating in space. I can't focus on anything except the thoughts going like bullets through my head.

I feel the top of the roof come off, kill everybody there as I'm watching all the stars burn out, trying to pretend that I care. But I didn't, no-one ever does, and I won't, no-one ever will Can't you see it's all flown out of my hands and our clothes are all too often ripped and our teeth are all too often gnashed and it lasts as long as it possibly can but I just don't accept this.

I just don't accept this at all. Faces sweaty, arms and legs, what a glorious set of stairs we make. We kill everyone with arrowheads, arrowheads, arrowheads. Thank god that's over. But I didn't, no-one ever does, and I won't, no-one ever will Can't you see it's all flown out of my hands and our clothes are all too often ripped and our teeth are all too often gnashed and it lasts as long as it possibly can Arrowheads...