So I guess I didn't mean anything to you after all.

There were a bunch of people

who set up camp around Smokers' to catch the kids on their ways home. Shiny red "Answer Books" were held out reverently in their eager hands.

No I fucking wouldn't like a Bible. Don't preach at me. I reserve the right to make my own choices about religion, and I choose to abstain from any sort of organized church. Don't shove your beliefs down my throat; not only is that disrespectful, it's downright rude. Hide behind your smarmy smile, but leave me and my friends alone.

It's 1:29 AM

and I am tired as fuck. Coughing and congested me. Just finished watching Girl, Interrupted for the zillionth time. Fiending for cigarettes, thinking about sneaking out the front door to wander between streetlights and ponder the night. Only five hours before I have to wake up and face the grime of daylight, the drudgery of school, the confusion of seeing A. Friends to lovers to friends. Daylight brings it all out again.

I just want to be THIN. Is that too much to ask?

Manchester Orchestra

I WISH I COULD READ BOYS' MINDS.

Operator?

I have been smoking a LOT.

Fuck am I fiending. I only have five left from that pack we bought on Saturday.

The smell of pumpkin pie is slowly crawling through the house. Making its way up the stairs, fingerprinting my walls. Empty is strong. So far I'm at grapes and tea, maybe eighty calories.

So confused

about you-know-who. And tired and stressed and overwhelmed and fatfatfat.
Why do holidays have to be about eating? Can't we bond some other way?

A,

Glitter.