Sticks and stones may break your bones...but words and acts hurt the most.
Friday, 10/12/01 - 4:28 p.m..

Hi girl. I just came to visit you. I'm sorry for getting lost a lot. Forgive me. ILU!!!!!! Vero.

My psychology notebook was wide opened on my bed. She wrote on it during the recess. I looked at the message written on it, once again. I started crying and closed it with anger.

Yesterday I got to decorate the "multi-purpouse room", for the Science Fair. Dammit, it was such a great time. It seemed like we were throwing a party. Hanging balloons and shit.

The guy called me, too. Hey, you don't call anymore, he said. I was planning on doing it this friday, I replied, to see how you did with your grades [We got our grades today. 7 and up, again. Of course. Go me and my-nerd-self]. We talked about a few things and then he asks if I'd masturbated lately...thank God his parents arrived home and he had to hang up. I wish he'd think less with the other head.

Now there's Cory, the other guy I like, and his self-esteem problems. I don't know how to help him. I'm a bit confused whether I love him as a friend or more than that. It doesn't fuckin' matter. I have to help him. I've been there. I've stood where he's standing now. Hating oneself. It's fuckin' horrible.

Last night, there was a storm. I went to bed at 8:30 and Frog woke me up when the storm began. She's such a coward. Anyway, there she was, begging me to lift her up and have her in my bed. And all of a sudden, I hear some kind of click and I hear an explosion and I see a light as if I was seeing God, at the same time....Is that you God?...take me home!. A lightning. Not like any other. This one happened in my yard. That's been happening a lot, lately. I love storms, but a lightning in your yard...that's a bit tough. I got up and it was 9:25. It ended up driving me nuts. It was like hiccups. The lightnings never stop. But eventually, it calmed down and went back to bed. With Frogg'ay.

Today...I didn't want it to go to school. I thought it was gonna be completely shitty. Here I am again, judging a day when it hasn't even started. I should learn to stop doing that. I woke up and felt good. I have another math exam. Surprisingly, I think I did good. Two psychology classes about self-esteem. Really nice and funny. I'd look at Cory whenever the psycho(logist) said something about loving oneself. It's not a shallow and easy subject, after all. It's not only saying: "hey, love yourself, so you'll love yourself". He put it in a smart, deep way. And talked about apples and bananas (It's not as stupid as it sounds).........bananas. Everyone thinks with the other head. But self-esteem is one hell of a subject.

For the third day in a row...The Faustaliban Vs....the people on the other corner. I haven't been injured in this little, childish war. But the conflict is getting to the people in the first desks of the lines. Many have been attacked by the paper planes. It's a fuckin' madness. But at least it's some kind of "group activity". Teachers say we're the "dead classroom", because we're more quiet than the rest of the junior high classrooms, we seldom participate, and everybody has his own little group of friends [yeah, except...me *standing ovation*]. Maybe things will be a bit different this....*sigh*...last week of 1st year of high school.

I was supposed to stay at school today, with Norm and Head, to work on a science project but our balls got too heavy....I mean, we felt really lazy. Head and I have this kind of "disease" and at the same time, "blessing". We call it, ballheavyness (aka lazyness). It's a lifestyle. We are Grade A slackers.

Now....Veronica wrote a message on my notebook during break. I got in the classroom and there she was, writing. I ignored her, although she was on my desk and I had to kneel next to it to get a few things out of my backpack. I don't know if she noticed me. If she did, she also noticed that I was ignoring her, so she ignored me back. But I don't think so.

Ok, now I get to analyze the message....excuse me? "I get lost a lot"? Who knows, baby. I feel I'm the one who got lost. I completely lose your point. You lost me with all your take-me's and leave-me's. She says she gets lost from me. That she's sorry. But she doesn't show up after saying that. She doesn't make the damn effort of leaving Clown for the fuckin' 15 minutes recess to show me that she's indeed sorry. But who cares? She's really lost. I hope I won't find her again. I wish she'd leave me alone for once and all. She says one thing and does another.

If a friend hurts you once, it's his fault. If he hurts you twice, it's your fault.

Yeah. It's kinda my fault (may I add that by the third time that one is not your friend?). I let her fuck me up for 4 years. Why? Because I wanted to be with her when she needed someone. I sacrificed myself. I stayed with her like a faithful dog. Anyway, I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm starting to get all F.I.N.E....y'know what, I do want to talk about it...but...talk. I'd love to talk to someone. No one listens, much less cares. And the ones I could trust, are the ones involved. The ones I do not trust.

I'm starting to feel like a vegetable in front of the computer. I'll go throw myself on the couch.

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