I don't find other peoples pain funny. Death isn't a joke. It's a fact of life. It's gonna happen. I try not to cry around others because it makes me feel weak and helpless. I am a private person when it comes to things like that. Yes, I do smile when someone mentions Hitler. Why? It's expected of the demented physcopath who sits in the back of the classroom. Yeah, I fit into my sterotypical role well. I'll play it till I'm done with highschool if I don't put some girl in her place for calling me a heartless demented bitch first.

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I am self concious about my weight and my boobs. I'm not big boned, I'm out of shape. I wanna fix this. I will, but I just don't have a set time to start. So I'm chubby around my gut, thighs, and upper arms. Hence: I don't wear cloths that show those areas off. I'm also well awear of my boobs. They run in the family, they're something no woman on my mother's side is omitted from getting. Yes, I realize when people stare at them. I've counted 200 in a peroid of 3 hours at the bookstore and mall. I don't like it. I don't like them. So girls, when you say 'I want one of your Ds' please think about what you're saying. Do you want clothing problems? (I found a gorgous black dress that I could have worn for homecoming, but guess what, boobs would have fallen out.) DO you want the stares? (it's not just guys our age.) Do you want everyone else being jelouse? (the 200 doesnt account for the girl's glareing at me.) Think before you make statements please.

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Emos. Goths. Preps. Jocks. Dceen kids. yes I label. I will admitt it. Am I aginst it? No. I am aginst judgeing people by the way they dress though. I try and listen to people talk before I start classifying them as dumbasses, but sometimes I just don't like a person for no reason at all. Is that bad? Probably. Do I care? No. Do people judge me the same way? More then likely. Does it bother me? A little. But people are more scared of me glareing at them then they are of my cloths. I haven't ever really been truely part of a lable. In elementry school I was a prep, in middle school I was low grade goth later low grade punk later normal person. Highschool... I dress for comfort and wear what I want because I can. Black, white, or purple. Just now yellow, stripes, or pink. :p

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I'm not sure what I want in life. Webdesign sounds fun, I'd love to do it. Theres money in it ad I adore computers. I could work at my own pace.... but it's still art. I can't draw worth shit unlike my mother whose art went to the rodeo yearly when she was in high school, and I am not increadibly creative. Yeah I can come up with swirls and grunge patterns but I'm not the best, ya know? I've considered being a teacher, high school level of course. Either english or computers. I love to write too. Something I'll always do on the side of what ever I do for a living. Under a pen name of course if I get published. I can't deal with being famous. Constant attention is not something I can deal with.

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My cave. My bedroom. My comfort place. My niche. I love curleing up in the cornor of my bed by my desk with my laptop on my stumach. I make a nest out of blankets and am more content there then anywhere in the world that I've discovered yet. It's painted blue, and decorated for comfort. I have three bookshelves. Only one holds books the others hold photos and childhood collecters items. Just cherished memories. My walls are covered in posters and puzzles. I have stuffed animals on a ledge and in a basket that hanged from the wall. My ceiling has dream catchers and dragons and wind chims hanging from it. Stop with the ideas of me having a blood red room, painted with the blood of my victems and torture devices being everywhere. No I don't even own a pair of fucking handcuffs let alone shackles attached to the walls.

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I like my camera a lot, I don't use it often enough regreatibly. I plan on useing it more now though. I want to remember high school. I want to try and have memory cards full of captured moments in time. Not just of me but of my friends too. You're only a senior once. I don't plan on wasteing my year.