Just my luck?

I was standing in line to get food when a couple of people in front of me greeted their friend, Jason. 

Jason went over to the group and exchanged some small talk. They then agreed to text each other later so they could go out.

For some reason, in that very moment I realized how amazing college is. 

In my school, there are literally thousands upon thousands of people your age just living next to each other and spending all day together without parents or anything. In the terms of a six year old, you have so many kids to play with!

You have so much food to devour, and big huge campus inside this amazing city that can very well be the best playground ever.

 

 

After becoming overjoyed at the thought that I am part of this great thing, I felt lonlier that I have ever felt in my life.

 

I am in my second year at UCLA, the largest public university in the west coast, and I have not made a single friend. 

 

Okay, I’m going to go cry now.

I’ll write more about this later.

But I’ll be damned if I can fix everything with a man!

I like to think my problems amount to more than simply lacking a male companion who can fuck my brains out. 

I’m fucked.

I don’t want to do anything anymore.

I am a college student. College students do work. I don’t.

 

How I haven’t gotten kicked out, I have no idea. I am very grateful that I haven’t, sure, but I don’t know why I refuse to do any learning!

 

I don’t think straight I guess.

 

Fuck!

 

Everything that came after doesn’t matter.

He didn’t want me and he didn’t want me.

I sound conceited, but I was really pretty then. I didn’t think so at the time, but now I see that I was.

I was also really nice and just the right amount of interesting.

I tried to be whatever he liked.

I became a fan of the bands he liked, and did my hair the way he once mentioned he liked, I put on the tightest skirts and bounced around him.

As much as I cried and begged to have a boyfriend I didn’t have to convince to want to look at me, he just didn’t want me.

And it sucks because I have their names and faces and conversations engraved in my memory and my favorite summer songs remind me of them

and I couldn’t compare to those dumb broads, but it doesn’t matter,

because for some reason, he liked them and not me.

 

And he just didn’t want me.

Does this even make sense?

I have been so horny for the past year, yet the very thought of a penis makes me remember how nasty those things smelled and tasted that I have no idea how I am ever going to have sex again.

I really want to have sex, but I don’t want to touch a dick or feel its slimy substance on my hand.

I know you don’t have sex with your hands, but I’m assuming I’m going to be doing some foreplay before, um, well you know, doing it.

In my attempts to be logical, I kind of figured that this must mean I am not ready for sex.

This must also mean that my former partner was not very nice as he allowed me to touch his sweaty(but understandably so)penis.

So yeah, I’m guessing that once I have someone I really like and I am in the mood and what not, I won’t care and just enjoy it.

Hopefully he is conscientious enough to wash it first.

Just drain the color from my hips.

I don’t want this,

I don’t want IT.

Friends already

I really want to talk to someone, but I think everyone I know has done their fair share of listening.

I think I deserve it.

I want a boyfriend who knows almost every single My Chemical Romance song by heart.

I want him to have their CD’s in his car and put them on while we are driving somewhere far.

He will scream all the lyrics with me, and he won’t judge if I get one wrong.

 

I don’t think that is too much to ask, do you?

This doesn’t mean that I will shack up with any guy who like MCR, though. No, no, I have to like the kid first in order for me to even care if he likes MCR or not.

 

If my future BF also ends up liking Blink-182, then OOOOHH, BABY!

 

One day, one day….

 

So I’m Having Nightmares

I don’t really get how dreams work anymore. At one point in my still short life, I had obsession with finding out what every single dream I had “meant”. I purchased this dream dictionary book in my local Marshalls, and I swear, that thing was my bible.

Every single dream I had, I looked up immediately and I believed every single thing I read. 

 

Mostly, I ended up realizing I have some serious self-esteem issues.

 

Not too uncommon in teenage girls, I know.

Right now though, my dreams have morphed into something different.

While before I used to have some dreams your run of the mill running around Hogwarts dreams, now, I dream about people that I know.

I dream of things that seem a little too true.

And they aren’t dreams anymore. 

 

I have nightmares about people that I know, places that I’ve been in, and situations that have made me cry before. 

I’m still a teenager, and most of these “situations” can be laughable by most people, but I still wake up shaking.

I hate that I can’t have a decent dream anymore. 

All I do is have these sickening nightmares that I can’t decipher from my reality because they are just too fucking possible.

I get all anxious and, it may be a petty problem, but I love sleeping! This sucks.

I hate seeing people who I really wanted to forget after I graduated in my private and even intimate moments (because although my dreams aren’t very sexy, they are intimate, because that’s how much I love it). 

 

Fuck off, peasants. Let me enjoy my sleep!

This is getting ridiculous.

153 pounds.

That is my latest thing that is terrorizing my every moment.

I do hope I am not annoying you with this, but my weight is depressing me.

I have never in my life been this heavy.

I am five foot and six inches. 153 pounds might not seem like enough to put my life in jeapordy or anything, but I can’t do this anymore.

I have no idea how I let myself balloon up to this weight.

I look in the mirror and see how much my body has changed and I honestly just want to break down crying.

I want to make it go away, but after failing when I used to succeed at this so easily before is really difficult.

I am 19 years old. It has been a year since I have gained so much weight.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the freshman 15, but I gained 25 pounds. That is insane in my opinion. 25 pounds is a lot no matter what you are talking about. I can’t do this anymore.

It is too exhausting hating your body. It is too exhausting feeling so hideous all the time.

I need to drop at least 20 pounds. That is going to be so hard, but I don’t think I can ever be comfortable if I don’t do it.

It sucks so much though because I have tried! I have worked out and eaten less and nothing happens! I get very frustrated when I think I’m doing good and then I end up getting heavier.

I can’t deal with this! It’s gotten to the point where I am becoming embarrassed to go out in public.

I know this seems like empty complaining, but it is taking over my head and I need to get past this in order to enjoy anything!