Let's get fiesty.

I'm making new old friends.

I have Garffi home. She loves me. I love her. It's a love story.

I'm tan.

I love the beach.

I love my moped.

I love hanging out w my friends.

I love my sister.

I am hardly working.

I need to make my decision.

I can't tell if God's sending me these friends and Garffi to try to tell me to stay, or tell me to go.

I hate the summer. Where'd spring go?

He's not The One. There isn't one. Thank God for ..you know.. ...God. Ha

I enjoy singing.

I should dance soon.

I cleaned my apartment. To pack, or to ..stay. I'm not sure.

I had to cut my bangs today. Already. I can keep track of my hair growing this way.

I'm not getting more tattoos.

I sure could use some marshmellow ice cream.

Maybe I should get ran over by a car. That would hurt. Bad idea.

I don't know if I can make this decision in 2 days.

I wish I could take Garffi on walks. Like a dog. Haha

I don't believe in mistakes. I believe in progess.

I'm going to pull an all-nighter. A fourth of July all-nighter.

Happy 7:20. Let's all pretend to care.

I have scars from Raine that I didn't realize I had. It's weird to me.

I don't know why I had such high expectations when I fail everyone I know, and should be able to relate to the ones failing me.

Every high hope leads me to failure in thoughts of progress in certain areas. Every "failed" situation has led me to be more independant and more dependant, less expectant and more expectant, less predicting and more pessimistic and more optimistic. It's complicated. I'm done.