(970):
ahh summer, the season during which the prefix for every verb is "get drunk and"
Oh yeah, my kind of person.
Happy birthday to me. It's not really seeming like a big deal to me for some reason, though. I mean, it's just another day. I don't suddenly feel seventeen; I've felt seventeen, eighteen even, for a while.
The years are passing so, so fast. I need to slow down and appreciate things more.
Emotions have been topsy-turvy recently. Tuesday was a veritable roller coaster. The day was great, and then I got home. Started thinking about the summer, about Africa, and how I just can't believe how badly I fucked up. Hysterics, tears. Long, long talks with Momma. This whole ordeal has brought us a lot closer, I think. The night ended with obscene happiness, though. I went out for a walk, had a few smokes, enjoyed the cool darkness. My mom might let me get a tattoo, another thing that made me happy. I think being sober has unfogged my mind, letting me really be happy. But of course I won't be able to stay like this, not if it means giving up weed. No chance. I dunno. Things are looking up, with boys, with friends, with parents, with life in general. Chalk it up to the warmer weather, I guess.
