October 9, 2014

So I’m sitting here trying to catch up on all the reading I haven’t been doing because I just don’t have time, I’m a lazy ass piece of shit, and I’m way too tired. Anyways, I’m sitting here studying my ass of because I literally have a quiz/test in every single fucking class tomorrow. My mom came in asking if she should go to the gym or stay home and workout here, she then asked me if I needed help, I then started to cry. For some strange reason I started to cry because my beautiful mother asked me if I needed help. The sad thing is, she can’t help me, this shit I’m learning has no effect on her today. She is a special needs teacher and she doesn’t need to know any of this shit. All she needs to know is English, maybe math, that’s it. So after I pulled myself together and stopped crying like the piece of shit I am, I started up my iTunes playlist and started to play the saddest of the saddest songs that I own. Let me just tell you, they are fucking depressing. I don’t know why but when I’m in a bad mood or I’m just sad, the only thing that makes me feel better is music that’s depressing as hell. I don’t know why this makes me feel better, maybe I just need to know that someone, somewhere, out there is having a just as shitty day as me. So after I set up my playlist I opened up Pages, and now I’m here. Ranting about how shitty everything is. Shitty music. Shitty teachers. Shitty studying. Shitty everything. The truth is, and I know this is so fucking cliché, but it just won’t matter in 5, 10 years. I mean, I can’t really say that in 100% truth because it’s my junior year and this is basically the year that decides whether or not I’m going to a shitty college or not, but I mean hey, I always have sports… Right? I honestly have no idea what I want to do with my life. For some reason I have this image in my head that if I go to Argentina I’m gonna have this huge epiphany about something but I mean this isn’t the Hilary Duff movie, I’m not going to kiss my Gordo after I just performed at one of the hugest concerts in Rome, but I mean a girl can dream right? The sad part is that as I’m writing this, I’m thinking about if I’m using my rhetorical techniques and figurative tropes and shit that I’m learning in English the right way. It’s a wonder for why I don’t have an A in that class. Anyways, shit happens right? Life goes on? I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I think I’ve gotten everything that was in me out.

-Taylor 

8:00 PM