My life is about as interesting as the next person's. |
current mood: current music: I'm Only Happy When it Rains - Garbage I'm letting him get to me. I have never cared so much on what one person thinks about me. Especially a teacher. If I write so well, why don't people tell me? Why is it that the one persont that's supposed to encourage me, doesn't do his job. He just DIScourages me. And now I'm well aware that I am the suckiest writer and Aubrey is the greatest in the world. Sure my writing is different from his normal bunnies and world peace shit. Wake up asshole, I live in the real world. I try to bring it alive, to your attention, and you just shoot it down hardly glancing at something I've worked soooo hard at. You just don't care. If my stuff has never been good before, why should it be now? This is stressing me out more than I ever have been. It's all I can think about. I can't even concentrate on just Jacob anymore. Mr. Deal and his queer bait ways are always lurking somewhere in my right brain. And I'm not good at anything else. My only aspiration in this pathetic world has been to write. And now that that's not an option, well then, I'm lost. I have no future. Fuck this. |