went out tonight, it was fun. made a scene in dunkin donuts, acted like a bunch of pervs, sang, told stores, high-kicked our way back to my house, good times.
i'm actually happy tonight, happier than i've been in a long time.
almost back up to my highest weight, please kill me now. my body just won't let go of the weight, why can't i have a normal body with a not-fucked up thyroid and no ovarian cysts?
going out on thursday night and getting trashed, i can't fucking wait.
i love how i think that i'm this amazing poetic writer when i'm really not. i'm just another fucked up kid with too much stuff to say, and this is how it comes out, influenced by the great writers of my time- palahniuk, ross, and wentz.
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