I am frustrated with myself and can't seem to put together a non-frivolous journal entry that doesn't make me feel worse. So that's my entry. Some juvenile music of old on your way out:
...Drink beneath the 405 in the ivy
and think about that girl...
Two grades below.
She pierced her nose way before it was cool.
Some older guy with a motorbike picks her up after school.
This school's a living hell.
I work and don't get paid.
I smoke a lot but can't get laid.
Sit and stare, it's all we do.
All my friends are broken, too.
We're just waiting. Waiting to begin.
Ecch.
...Drink beneath the 405 in the ivy
and think about that girl...
Two grades below.
She pierced her nose way before it was cool.
Some older guy with a motorbike picks her up after school.
This school's a living hell.
I work and don't get paid.
I smoke a lot but can't get laid.
Sit and stare, it's all we do.
All my friends are broken, too.
We're just waiting. Waiting to begin.
Ecch.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
tawnya:
Good point. But you could also attmept to prove to me this weekend at some point that you own at least one more shirt. But I understand if you wish to hide the fact that you do, in fact, only have the one.
juno106:
Sometimes I have absolutly nothing to say in my journal. But thats when I just post pics.