"In darkness, there is fear. But there is also hope -the hope of seeing light. That is what keeps us sane."
Okay, so that wasn't an exact quote, but I forgot most of it. And the person. Give me a break.
Well, Laura and I haven't exactly been getting along lately. Not really on good terms. Just because I haven't given her books back yet, she's decided that I can't ever borrow another one, and that if I continue with my procrastinating ways, I'm basically going to fail at life......
My dad came back from the ship trip thing at BIW. Only three days, though. There was barely time to miss him.
I need to go to Borders now. Right now. Badly. I require reading nourishment for my parched brain. I've been reading over everything I have for so long.....
Randi: if you ever get on, there are actually three books that go along after Vampire Kisses. Wow, I still haven't given that back....... But anyway, yeah. Kissing Coffins, Vampireville, and some other one that hasn't been released yet. I just looked it up on Amazon.com for laughs, and saw the list. I was then like this: eek .
Does anyone know HOW Gerard broke a rib? It just said that it was one of the many injuries that had been plaguing the band after the Black Parade...... I'm curious.
There's not much else..
But I think there might be something wrong with me.
Because whenever there is, I retreat into the realms of fiction. Translation: I read until my eyes feel like they're going to blow. I don't really know what it is. Maybe a good book will cure me. But I doubt it. Maybe it's Laura. Or my English obsession. It must seem stupid to all of you. But we all have it: a stupid obsession others just can't understand. For me, it's writing. I love it. I want to do it for the rest of my life.
Ugh. As if my MAP test score is going to help me there. I raised one point. One. Even if I already know everything that has happened in LA this year, I should have at least improved more than that. Raising by one point doesn't count, because it's in the range. So basically, I've wasted my entire 8th grade year doing pointless, idiotic projects that I get good marks on. WHAT. THE. HELL.
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ASK YOURSELF in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity..." - Rainer Maria Rilke
When I grow up I want to be
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