My endless stream-of-consciousness

I told her i like trouble. And I guess in a way it’s true. Being little miss goody two shoes honors dork is a lot of work. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, and I have no interest in doing either. But when it comes to guys, I’m definitely being pulled into a fatal attraction. I can’t help it. Guys smell good, they have a smile that makes you weak in the knees, and they know just what to say.

I know I shouldn’t talk to him. He’s too old for a 17 year old. We flirt with danger and I know it’s inappropriate. But the thing is, that’s half the fun. I enjoy knowing that it’s wrong. I enjoy knowing that he’s way too experienced for someone as clueless as me. I enjoy the thrill of being “bad” for once.

I guess I’m just going to see where this goes. I haven’t made any official decisions yet, but I’m going to try my best to ignore my brain for once and to just go with the flow and see where the moment takes us. I can’t be a naive little girl forever.

and I haven’t begun to read Parts 3 and 4 of Crime and Punishment. and the test is tomorrow. And our teacher told us that we won’t do well if we use sparknotes. fuckkk. this is bad. gah. i hate life. and tomatoes. but not really, cuz i like tomatoes. i hate eggplant. wait no i dont, only sometimes, cuz sometimes i like egg plant parmesan. why is the sky blue? i learned this shit in 7th grade but i dont get it. why is that pen orange? why would i want an orange pen. dumb fucks. grr stupid rain. leprechauns! in mah pants with yu grill in the spaghetti sauce of bayonne with the sporks of doom! gahh im sorry for you poor fucks who have to read this shit. blame Mr. Iansito for teaching me what stream of conciousness is. it’s basically a point-of-view where what is written is exactly the thoughts going through the writer’s brain. which is why nothing i wrote made sense cuz i just wrote the first thing that popped into my mind. pickles! omg there was this girl on the maury show who was afraid of pickles. who’s the daddy? dumb bloomfield hoes. why is ****’s face orange. damn oompa loompa. alice in wonderland. i wonder what it would be like to do cocaine. im all ready so freaking weird, me on LSD would be so fucking hilarious. i’d prob ride a purple elephant while it ate a turtle that was eating a veloceraptopr in the phillipines of eurasia with a billy goat named tuscando florino. toucan sam! i hate fruit loops. loopy doopy in mah necktarine sandwich! do you think i can kicked out of the jewish religion for being a grammar nazi. i hope not cuz that would suck. turkey bananas fetus penis melanoma telephone lady gaga beyonce chris brown smack that ho miley cyrus dominatrix dayumm mami papi chulo oh aiight abdul in the pancreas of doom with lemonsicles.

eventhen:

dani-feuerstein:

eventhen:

but if you wanna kill yourself, I say GO FOR IT!

never say never

and please stop talking, and get moving

who are you talking about?

these kids on twitter who said they wanted to kill themselves bc some guy left their favorite band…

wow that’s lame. people need to get their priorities straight.

Seriously, they do. Whenever a guy declares feelings for me within a week of meeting me, I immediately write them off. Why? Because how can you possibly like “ME”, when you don’t even know who “ME” is? I never develop legit feelings for someone unless I’ve known them awhile and have become comfortable around them. Because then I know who they are and I have feelings for the person I know them to be. Sure, I have had crushes, or have felt lust, for people I barely know, but I am able to look back and distinguish my schoolgirl crushes and lust from my actual feelings.

I just don’t understand how you can not know anything about me, yet you like me. Whenever this happenes, I ask the guy WHY they like me. I always get the same, general responses; you’re cute, you’re smart, you’re nice. That’s not enough reason to like someone! I have met adorable cats before who act in a very wise manner, but that doesn’t mean I want to date them!

I want somebody who likes me for the the little things only a real friend would know. Someone who likes me because of the way I squeak when I’m tickled; the fact that every day I laugh in a new, odd way; the way I blurt out random things at inappropriate times; the way I sing and dance spontaneously; my sarcastic, nonsensical remarks; the stupid things I say; my refusal to go anywhere without my camera; my love of animals; the weird faces I make for absolutely no reason.

So if you just met me and have a crush, don’t hit on me or act on your feelings right away. Because any chance we could ever possibly have in the future is ruined by me being unable to trust your intentions.

I think too much. Seriously, I do. It seems like in this world there are those who think too much and those who do not think at all. I’m in the first category, and sometimes I wish I could just stop thinking about every little thing and just LIVE.

I need to stop thinking about boys so much. I change my mind every five seconds, which makes me wonder if I ever actually like anyone. Sometimes I do, but sometimes I’m just curous and my imagination runs wild, and I fall in love with an idea. I’ve never been in love with anyone, I just have silly schoolgirl crushes. I want more than that though.

And right now I keep thinking wayy too much about next year, and what it’s gonna be like leaving everyone behind. On the one hand I’m excited to start over, on the other hand I know it’s gonna be so hard to say good bye to some people who I know aren’t going to stick around past graduation. It’s a hard thing to accept, but I mean I don’t know any adults who still talk to their high school friends. I’d like to hope I won’t be like them, but I only have confidence in like one or two people remaining a part of my life in the future.

I need to stop thinking, like legit I really need to. Cause I’m driving myself insane.

jfguhdguidgbguirbg  ooooooo pretty dinosaur! rawr veloceraptor in platypus pajamas!

I’m a banana!

Man I wish I just had random thoughts like this in my head all day, then life would be so simple.

It must be nice being insane. No real problems, just weird hallucinative thoughts. I wouldn’t mind seeing talking dinosaurs and dancing spoons all day everyday. Maybe I should just let myself go insane.