• i don't want to be in my story anymore, but i guess nobody ever really does. nevermind. sad in a destructive kind of way. i want to sleep all day; scratch that, never wake up. not suicidal but i just wish that i would spontaneously combust. there's a psychology term for it, but i really don't care. i'm like that dog in 101 dalmations trying dust away my footprints, but you know, there's not enough time because Cruella de Vil wants to skin me to make stylish clothing. just kind of drifting away again, feeling like a leper. i don't like this. it feels like i'll never get my late night car rides or early mornings on my front porch ever again. and those are the only things that make me feel awake because of the pleasantness of it all. i've slept so long but its dizzying to stand up. considering the fact that i might be seriously ill, but naaah i'm probably glamourizing something simple. it's funny how much i dislike myself and how in the same way i won't let anyone like me, or worse love me. because in all truth, everyone should hate me for all the not nice things i do. but thats what revenge is for and 'we accept the love we think we deserve'

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