Right.

So basically this is:

me: writting to myself + some chance a strange entity is bored slash interested in things about my life he couldnt possibly relate to (aka creepo stalker aka the most fascinating humans ) + some chance or a fluke my friends have a sort of interest in "this" as well.

I'd say pretty much = a personal diary.


----

I mean I could make this about some surreal depression or copied pasted phase im going through. I'm sure i'm looking forward to any self analysis i could possibly inflict on myself (if in fact it hadnt already been inflicted on me daily by others//friends/psychiatrists//family).

Personally I don't really care.

Maybe i'm so depressed i'm attempting at dragging everyone down with me or maybe everyone is so self-involved all they can see is fault and mishief in my actions.

I am so out to get everyone . It's ridiculous, right?

Ironically I could be the self involved one , i mean "boo! i just need one friend."

I hungout with my one friend who sees me through thick and shit today.


It was like totally Awesome.

So what am i complaining about....i have one friend.

I want to learn how to knit and sew. I also want a nice boyfriend. And 2 million dollars.