I stole 100 NT from the secretary's desk at the school of which my mother founded. I wanted money so a friend and I could go to the food stand outside the school. I don't remember another time at which I stole money.

It's 12 am on a sunday night. I just painted my nails blue. My room smells a little like chemicals because of my nailpolish remover. I hope I don't poison my room mate, but she has her heavy comforters over her head... so maybe she'll suffocate herself before my nailpolish remover. That was not meant to be malicious. I'm also doing laundry. But I'm waiting for my nails and laundry to dry so I won't ruin both. It's a good thing that I can't ruin nails by typing. Because I'm feeling immensely bored.

I'm not normally this jittery, hyper, or un-self-loathing, if that's a word. (It's not.) I think I'm supposed to be studying for an art history exam that is on tuesday, but I would like to think I already did enough of that today. At least I tried. I stayed in the student learning center for six hours. I could have shot myself.

In other news, my friend Debbie and I made a youtube channel. I'm pretty excited about it. We wanted it to make it a weekly journal type thing. I like sharing my insights. At least I think they're funny...


Ugh damn. I should never have coffee. I should never have caffeine. It completely jacks up my body. I'm so damn hyper, I hate it.


Anyways. I made a list of things to talk about on video. Not really. But I thought it would be slightly interesting to share my life with people I don't know.




I wish I had my own room.

I've been reading a lot of Mr. D's posts on his blog. Mr. D is a local Asian American Christian leader. He used to be a youth leader for a Korean church near my church -- now he attends church with Jacob somewhere in Dunwoody. He's someone I'd consider admirable -- I feel completely humbled, borderline ashamed of myself, when I'm even near the proximity of him. (Clearly, even through the world wide web.) And the thing is, I always have this desire to be his friend (as I always do, with people who are older....he is at least 15 years older); to talk to him, to relate. In the process of doing so, I always make a fool out of myself because I try to be someone better than who I am -- better artist, better conversationalist, better Christian, etc. I'm not. But I try. He's patient, but I sense tension. Yikes.

I digress.

Maybe a day ago, Mr. D posted a blog admitting that he is a racist. And in succession: an ageist, sexist, and elitist. He says that he cannot forgive, has problems forgetting, and has troubles with not hating -- even passive aggressively -- towards those who have done him wrong and called him names ("chink", "gook", "ching chong" etc). Race -- the divider and unifier of humankind. Isn't it a little overwhelming to think about?

At first I was a little shocked to his confession. Of course, I would never view him differently or pass judgment -- because I think it was quite honest and bold of him. Honestly bold. I don't think I know anyone who would be that willing to lay everything down like that -- to admit something that no one in society feels comfortable admitting. And the thing is -- I think we're all a little racist. Sometimes, the people who claim to not be racist are the ones who are the more judgmental and "close-minded" than those who openly advocate racism -- if thats possible. I mean, I think I'm racist, to an extent. I hate racial tension, and I hate people who openly discriminate, but I think I exude some of that deep within me.

With that aside, I talked about this subject with Debbie. Not directly. I brought up the subject of being judgmental. I told her that I feel the most judged in the presence of another Asian girl on campus -- and never anyone else. Asian girls always give each other the up-and-down. Asian men on campus whip out their Asian radar to find and check you out, even in the sea of 300 students. Asians. It's part of our culture, no? To be judgmental. But as Americans, being judgmental is socially rejected. Americans are supposed to be open, loving, and accepting -- to the point of pretension.

We are such a confused group of people, us Asian Americans. We judge because it's part of our Asian culture, but we feel guilty in doing so because everyone else in America thinks we're bitchy. And no doubt we get out fair share of racism, prejudice, and discrimination -- I don't know another ethnic group infamous for their brains, nerdiness, easily ridiculed accents, and weird fashions. So in short... it seems as though we are so evidently brought together by our race, but we have certainly not failed to separate ourselves because we are so judgmental as a people and so lost as individuals.


As a Christian, I've found myself to be even more clueless in my identity. Not only is being judgmental downplayed by the American social society, it's also downplayed within the Gospel. So how is one supposed to find peace within an Asian Christian community? I guess it's a struggle that's been fought since we invented this category of people. At least there will always be people like Mr. D to step up to the plate.

I can't help but want to be like him, so badly -- to be undeniably accepting of others and to have such humility and faith. Right now as an 18-year-old, I think I'm still too bothered by the factors of growing up. Still. My art is still in question, and so is my pride. My friendships. Relationships. My desire to be loved. My constant struggle with my own identity and self-affirmation. My physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual growth is constantly growing, and often times receding. Sometimes I feel like I'm the opposite of what Christ advocates, just because I'm not ready to let go of the little pride that I have. What pride.

I won't deny it. I still have dreams about Happy. I've now unintentionally begun to keep tallies of the ways God might be sending me signs. If I don't wake up in time for class, I'm not meant to go. If I can't seem to make art work, then it's not meant to be made. Et cetera. Likewise, if I keep having dreams about Happy and I keep thinking about it, maybe it's meant to be fixed. But how? How am I supposed to accomplish this without hurting either one of us? I don't believe that someone's feelings is considered a sacrifice in the process of fixing a friendship. I can't help but let my anger and frustrations get in the way. Sometimes I'm just tired of it all. And I don't want to be the one that's vulnerable.

I wrote the quote in the subject bar because I like it. Mr. D. wrote it in his blog today as a type of eulogy towards his father-in-law, who passed away in May. And may you live boldly, for no one has promised us tomorrow. It gives me a lot to think about.

The way I feel about art is always faulty after a drawing class. Sometimes I love it, other times I really just don't know what I'm doing. I wonder if the people in the class can totally tell that I've never picked up an official medium to create art. The extent of my art career in high school was a janky art I class during junior year. I didn't like that class. We did patterns for a full semester.

Now I'm here. I'm a little miserable -- mostly because my throat has swollen to unbearable proportions which makes swallowing near impossible -- but I'm also constantly being reminded by my subpar art work that I haven't been in this field for very long, compared to the other art students. Of course, there are always people in the department who are just as clueless as I am, maybe more -- but I don't really want to base my self-esteem on that factor. It's not fair, and it's not stable. I guess everything takes a little time.

Like my throat for instance. I'm not sure what all this is about, but it hasn't been getting any better and I've been taking drugs 24/7. I emailed my mom last night to vent my troubles. She said that unless I have a fever, I shouldn't go see the doctor. My best remedy is rest.

I'm a little sad. I wish I can see my mom. And I also wish that I'm not the softie that I am. All of my other siblings seem to be doing fine on their own. My brother didn't come home for maybe four months his first year in college. My sister the same -- although I don't quite remember how much she kept in contact with us, because we weren't that close then. But myself on the other hand, I am just craving for someone to take care of me, bring me food, hug me, tell me they love me, and console me when I'm feeling as shitty as I am. Is this normal?! I sometimes think that I'm this way because I never got enough of it. A little ridiculous. Then again, I think I've always been this way. While my brother and I were 6 and 8, my brother would go out and play with his friends until dark, while I would be the type of person to sit and do homework, draw, or memorize my times tables in a smaller desk beside my mother's desk while my mother sat and worked. Until she'd ask me to leave every now and then. That's me. In a nutshell. I don't fall very far from the nest, despite what people perceive me. I guess there's never much wrong with that notion.

In other news, Happy has once again tried her hand at reaching out. Through facebook. Does this seem like dejavu to anyone? Because it's pissing me off that this keeps happening. At this point, I don't really give a shit about how she gets in contact with me, because I have no desire to rekindle the friendship that I've worked so hard at destroying. Ya know? However, it's always a little amusing and a little frustrating taking an objective standpoint. I am a wall, she is a marshmellow, just dying to be stuck against me.

Here's what she wrote so eloquently:

"sooooo you want to tell me why you're not talking to me all of a sudden? i tried texting you twice but no response?

i mean, we lived through vbs - whats up now?"


Lived through? Shit. I'm sure you did, condescending bitch. I so naively thought that the "so are you just going to ignore me now?" text would be the end of this whole ordeal. From Debbie, I thought she wasn't going to try anymore. And I rejoiced.

What does it take to completely cut off someone who thinks that I am her primary slave?

Just leave me alone. Nobody likes you.

I think I'm sick again. How is this possible.

I passed out on my bed after drawing class around 5:30. My friend from high school called me at 7:30 to tell me that she's on campus with five other girls from Agnes Scott. I walked down to meet her. We were going to go party tonight so I held off on the cough medicine. Well, apparently, the girl who talked them all into coming to campus ditched them within 30 minutes of arriving. The one guy whom all the girls are staying with left his dorm to a party of his own. The rest of the girls didn't know what to do, as they were all promised a frat party by the time they get on campus. By the time they finished their story, I was feeling so bad that I didn't even want to step out. I didn't know any parties going on tonight so I opted to drive them to the club downtown. By the time we had walked down to my car, one of the four girls left called up another girl on campus and decided that she wanted to go hang out with her. Another girl in the group was feeling too awkward to go down to the club, so she went with that girl. So I was left with Banana and one of her friends left. I drove them down to the club, and then I came back to my dorm.

And now I'm here. Taking dayquil (because i dont haven nyquil, but it seems to make me just as tired), drinking peppermint tea, watching What Women Want, etc etc. Nursing my poorass body from falling apart. I even contemplated working on my art projects. But alas, I almost cut my finger off in class today because I was so tired.

By the way, my color/comp teacher is 28. He graduated from Indiana with his masters.

Why are all good men at Indiana.

I just keep movin' on up, huh.

Sometimes, I think the reason that I keep myself so busy all the time is so that I won't have time to think for myself. I guess I just don't like to be reminded of the bad things -- plus, I think I like myself better when I'm occupied and important. I think I'm having one of those days where I could be doing homework, but I'm too busy being sucked into my own shitty thoughts to do that right now. Plus, the art building is so damn far away. And my cutting board is just not large enough.

I got a call from Banana today. She's in Agnes Scott, the all-women's college. She sounds great. She's driving down with five other people from her school. I think I should be a little bit more excited.

I think I spend a lot of time being quiet when I'm doing art. That's nice, I think. But I think I spend way too much time reminiscing about the most surprising things.

Today, I thought about my ex-boyfriend. Not on purpose. While i was sitting around doing nothing at work, I suddenly had a strong image of my ex and I in my bedroom, just crazed with passion. He was my first for a lot of stages, but I don't think I cared enough to give him that title. It's a little strange to think about that now, since it feels like so long ago, but it's only been two months. I guess I really tried blocking that memory out. I wish he would keep his damn mouth shut.

The other day while I was cutting paper, I went back to first grade. I spent first and second grade in Taiwan. I don't think I've ever been the type to stand on my own -- even though I had to most of my life. In attempts to fit in, during recess I would follow a dozen kids down to the special ed building and taunt the kids with down syndrome. We would call them rats, or the rat people. We would hide behind plant pots and trees right outside in the courtyard and yell the names we gave them, and then run and hide again when they would sometimes come out to scare us away. Because their mentality was our mentality, despite their ages. If anything, they probably believed us. I want to say that we did because we didn't know better. At least I didn't. I wonder if the other kids did.

I wonder if the reason that I'm so adamant about kindness right now is because I knew I wasn't so nice back then. Or because people weren't nice to me. Sometimes I really wish I do what I say. Sometimes, I really don't think I'm nice at all. So, to compensate for my guilt, I allow others to step all over me.

What's really a healthy mentality.

Fuck my incredible desire to be loved. I hate myself without the people I love surrounding me. There's always something.

I'd just like to take a moment to document my worst week ever before I launch into a frenzy of studying and using rubber cement. Explanations will come later.


I got sick Friday. I had been fighting it all week and it all came in a whirlwind. I hated friday. Because I had too much to do and I wanted to go home. I was assigned a paper, a drawing, a quiz, and a design project (in that order) for each day of next week (this week). I wanted to cry. But I wanted to cry for many reasons, so I didn't.

I went home. I had a fever. I nursed my fever, while doing all of my homework. I could have sworn my professor said two pages, double-spaced. So I wrote two pages, double-spaced. A few hours before I left, I hurriedly drew something and tucked it away in my portfolio.

Tuesday came. I was still incredibly, deathly ill. I went to class. My professor said one page. And to take off a point for either going over or under a page. I was pissed.

I went to work. I had to go home early because I was so fucking congested and contagious. I then proceeded to sleep for 2.5 hours. I woke up, ate what I can, and decided to go study with Debbie.

I worked on the second project for design. Something with rubber cement. It was shit. I didn't know it then.

Wednesday. Today. Death day. In the morning, I went to class early because I had to go to the book store to find a book. Some classmate told me they had it. They didnt have it. I was almost late to psychology.

Because it was wednesday, I had to carry all of my art supplies with me. Portfolio, drawing board, drawing pad, paints, pencils, etc. Everything. It was heavy as hell. Things went relatively smoothly until I started to lose my appetite because of all the medication I've been taking. I felt woozy and not hungry. I was pretty pissed about that.

I was late to drawing class because I was carrying more than my body weight. I didn't feel like taking the bus because it was too far away and way too crowded. So I walked. Up a hill, down a hill, to my dorm to drop off some heavy weight (which would be my useless art supplies, because i didn't use any of it). I finally came to drawing class.... dirty, smelly, sweaty, flustered. Everyone had already placed their drawings on the floor for display. This would be the first time I took a second look at my drawing since having drawn it. It looked like shit compared to those of the rest of the class. I was a little more than embarrassed. I felt clumsy, disgusting, not funny (the worst part ever), and incredibly inconsiderate of everyone around me.

My growing crush for Andy was put on a hold that day. Usually I would have tried to interact with him. Not today. I chose the drawing subject that was the furthest from him. Alas, chance came to me. My professor, the nicest lady I've ever met in my life, could sense my discomfort and need to felt included from a mile away: "Jasmine...aren't you the one who has the sand paper? Why don't you let him see what it's like to sand off his blender." I looked up from my ink cross-hatch drawing, and there in his glory stood red-head and a grateful look. I...wanted to cry. Of all days. I wish I wasn't so disgusting. I was tired. I wasn't functioning. I was sick. I was snotty. I wanted my mother. I could fall asleep on the spot. DO NOT ask me for my sand paper.


THere you have my worst week ever. And it's only fucking wednesday.

It's been two weeks since school has started. I came home this weekend because of labor day to hang out with friends, plus do some laundry. I've come to realize certain things, or maybe, just things that I would like to tell people, but I really don't know if I can.

I wouldn't say it's been successful, but I've almost completely cut Happy out of my life. Thus far, I would say that I've been the happiest being as free as possible. I don't remember the last time I was this free of someone else's problems. I've been well, I think. Having the chance to talk to Debbie about my situation with Happy has helped me affirm my self-esteem -- in that, yeah, I was treated like shit, and I shouldn't have been. For me, the most sensible thing to do is to cut her out of my life. At the same time, I still wonder if that was the right thing to do. It's not like I haven't heard about her, and it's not like she hasn't tried to get in contact with me either. But I've ignored everything, or tried to shrug it off. Is this too selfish?

I always try to take in the account of the people whom I take the most advice from. I always know why I like these people -- probably because they agree with me -- but I try to step back and see what other people think of them. I know the three people who completely agree with me in my stance are Debbie, Omo, and Banana. They are three people that I know who are consistently, or at least strongly believe in, cutting people out of their lives for the sake of their own happiness. Things happen, I think. When people wrong you time and time again, maybe it's just a sign to cut things off. It's not necessarily about patience or forgiveness. I believe (and I know that they do too) that our patience and forgiveness take a toll at a limit, and there's always that limit. Friendships or not; the Christian thing to do or not... this is life. At least the life that I know.

As it seems that I already strongly believe in where I stand, it's probably a grand question of why I'm still questioning it. Probably because I find myself anxious, cautious, and a little hostile whenever the thought of her comes up. I saw her accidentally at a dining hall once. I was with five other friends; she was with three. Her back was turned to me. Suddenly, her loud, obnoxious phone went off in the middle of a moderately quiet room. She picks up. She most likely saw me in the act of doing so, because she quickly left afterwards. She's given me plenty of reasons for her flight-rather-than-fight habit when it comes to meeting face-to-face, finally, after a verbal fight (which are always online and rarely on the phone or in person). One of them being that she's being the "bigger person" by leaving, because she didn't want to "start a scene" with my people...with the undertone of: "I just don't want to embarrass you."

I'm sure it's one of her many defense mechanisms that she's learned from her boyfriend -- that is, rearranging her words in her thesis that would make her sound sensible and confident. Really, she's probably scared shitless of what would happen, what I would do to her, what she would say...etc. I can relate to that. Anyone can. It's just the fact that she's scared to even admit to that that makes me lose respect for her.

All in all, my main point of questioning my stance is the way that I am whenever the thought of her does creep into my mind -- which is anxious and violent. In order for me to cut her out of my life, I think I have to come to a peace with myself, and her. I have to accept the way that things are and move forward with my life; viewing the image and the phase that I had with her as apart of history. So far, I am only dealing with that when I'm prepping myself for a close encounter, or that I'm explaining my thoughts to someone who understands me, like Debbie. As far as actually having a close encounter, I think I would sink to a level of violence and name-calling and absolute immaturity. Obviously, my rage is still quite prominent. The way that I'm muffling it is by having absolutely no contact with her, thus avoiding a chance of hostility...thus, not promoting a reason for her to be hostile towards me.

And obviously, I don't know how that plan is working out. She seems to be the center of almost every conversation I have with Debbie. I talk so much shit -- probably because I never got the chance to with anyone who understands both me and Happy. I can't seem to stop talking about her because she makes me so angry. And as far as I know, the last time Happy came to church and was questioned: "So have you seen Jasmine at all at school?" Her response was, "Can you please not ask me that?"

My immediate response in hearing that was rolling my eyes. I seem to think that I'm dealing with this far better than she is. This is most likely because I made the conscious decision to cut her out of my life; as opposed to Happy, who thought she had the upper hand in this stage of our relationship, who was shocked to pieces after realizing that I've made the point to not be her bitch anymore.

I don't know how long it's going to take for me to come to peace with the idea of her. And I don't know if I'm ever going to allow her back into my life. All I know is that she probably won't make it easy.


I know I'm right. I know that I apologized for what I've done, and I know that what I did was for her. I know that I had an infatuation with the idea of her boyfriend back when we talked, but I never even planned on dating him. In fact, my main focus was for him to come clean and for her realize what a jackass he is. But if she's okay with that (and it's pretty obvious that she is), then I have no place in her life anymore. And I'm pretty sure I'm okay with that.

Would you rather live in Texas or Alaska? Alaska. Did you mean it when you said "i love you" last? When I said it in a romantic relationship: never. To friends: always. How old is the last person you kissed? God. 17. Your most recent ex REALLY needed you at 3am and you had a way to his/her house would you go? Hell no. When was the last time you wanted to punch someone in the face? Today, when I thought about how incredibly retarded she is. But almost never. Is it okay if you kiss people when you're single? Um...yes? Do you have a best friend you can tell stuff to and your sure they wont tell? I'm not insecure about whether or not someone will tell my shit or not. I have friends who are awesome and it's unspoken how exclusive the information I give them are. Do you know anyone that smokes pot? A lot. What is wrong with you right now? I'm tired. I have psychology and drawing to do. When's the last time you kissed someone? Just a month or so ago. Ever had a near death experience? Sure. Do you think youll be married in 10 years? I don't know. Do you plan on kissing the last person you kissed again? No. Do you crack your knuckles? Nervous habit. Do you own big sunglasses? Yeah. Would you go in public looking like you do right now? Yes. Except my tank top and my jacket are the same color. That always bothers me. And that only happens because I always buy he same colors. Would you kiss someone to make your bf/gf mad? No. Do you want to go back to school? I am in school. Can you handle the truth? I try my hardest. And I'd rather know the truth. Are your nails painted? Yup. Do you wear heels? Only on special occasions. Did you like anyone last summer? Yeah. Do you believe exes can really ever be "just friends"? No. Ever flung a rubberband at anyone? By accident. What did you have for breakfast this morning? An egg, toast, fruit. Have you ever felt replaced? Not that I can remember. But I've definitely replaced a lot of people in my life. Are you too shy to tell people when you're developing feelings for them? Yeah. I still have yet to do that. Do you dance while getting ready for whatever? No. Have you broken a bone or had stitches? I've fractured my arm, but I've never broken anything or had to have stitches. What color are your toe nails painted? Maroon. Do you read horoscopes? No. Do you use t9, word, or abc? t9 Is there a guy that knows everything or mostly everything about you? Yeah. Do you tell your mom everything? It's kind of a privilege to talk to her now, so yes. I do try to tell her everything. Have you ever done something outrageously dumb? All the time? Have you ever had the cops called on you? nope Who was the last person you yelled at? I don't really yell at anyone. Who was the last person you cried in front of? I can't remember the last time I cried. Have you told anybody you loved them today? No. Think of the last person you held hands with, do they mean something to you? I held hands with the kids at VBS. I loved them to death. Do you have feelings for the last guy you talked to? No. I don't remember the last guy I talked to.

I feel so incredibly inspired, rejuvenated, and awesome right now. School is doing my body awesome. I think I might get worn out pretty easily and fast, but I really love it right now. Art school is the shit.

I recently wrote a long email to a good friend of mine. Everything said in there pretty much embodies my feelings for Happy at this moment.


"In other news (before I totally cut it off the last time we spoke to each other), Happy and I are now not really on speaking terms. The reason that I just can't take it anymore is because she's intruding on my own happiness and it's become such hard work to have a relationship with her. In a way I feel bad for her because she spends every waking moment with her controlling and manipulative boyfriend; so much that she has failed to make other friendships. In turn, she has no idea who the hell she is and there is nobody in this world who can offer her that opportunity because her boyfriend cuts off every other relationship she has, whether purposefully or not. She believes that having one best friend and one boyfriend will balance out her life. I can see the logic in that, but I honestly don't know anyone who could be that person to balance out her life. [Her boyfriend] is a fucking skeeze. I don't believe that there is a single person in this world who would be willing to feed her selfishness with their own selflessness. It makes me angry that it makes it okay for [Her boyfriend] to cheat on her time and time again but it's not okay for me, even though I did nothing that deserved the way that she treated me. So now she's trying to pull Debbie, our mutual friend, in to fill the gigantic void that I left. Too bad Debbie's completely creeped out by [her boyfriend].

I'm actually not very angry at all, I don't think. It makes me sad to see that she's miserable, but at the same time, I think she might actually be the only person deserving of [her boyfriend]. (Is that too mean?) I'd rather see Joy with him and watch her suffer than see girl after girl suffering from being with him. So really, all I'm saying that he's the only person in this world who I think this world could do without. With my "stepping down" from the position of "[Happy's] Best Friend", I feel like I have the strange responsibility to find a suiting employee to take my place. Except I can't find anybody, because no one would spend that much time on a person like I would.

What really creeps me out is that I sound so much like [her boyfriend] when I say things like that. I always thought it was self-righteous to stay friends with a person because I think they need lots of help and because I'm the only person capable of doing it -- and it is, but I think I'm different, because I at least have enough respect for myself and the other person to step out. I refuse to be in the same position again. Then again, I've never met anyone quite as mentally ill and spineless as Joy.

Debbie hung out with [Happy] and [her boyfriend] today and she told me that Joy is trying to suck her into her world, and also that Joy said that she feels the same way about me as I do her. I'm okay with that. I hope she's okay with it too, and that she isn't just trying to put up a totally-see-through front for Debbie. Completely pathetic. I'm in between feeling sorry for her and thinking she's one of those subbies.

Well, I can analyze [Happy] all day, but she's still going to be the same retard tomorrow."


Amen.

Before coming to school, my original intentions for her were to politely break off our relationship, a little at a time until we've (forcefully) grown apart. I met up with Debbie when I got to school and we've been talking about Happy and my situation. Apparently, Happy has told her some things as well... except Debbie is completely disgusted by her. In a way, I'm really happy that someone is on "my side", or that someone at least understands all the shittiness that Happy put me through.

Since Happy has no other friends, she has decided to pull Debbie into her life. Her and her boyfriend, doing the same exact thing to her that they did to me. Wonderful. I'm glad Debbie has taken a stand for herself. Or I wish that I had someone who was as miserable as I was being their friend to show me all the ropes of hell; the kind that comes with having any kind of a relationship with either of them. From what Debbie told me about the things that Happy desperately confided in her, Happy thinks that she and I are no longer acquaintances. She thinks that she and I are not on speaking terms. I didn't think we weren't on speaking terms -- I just couldn't stand the mere sense of her. But since she's totally agreeable towards not speaking, I'll oblige.

I have absolutely no desire to rekindle any kind of friendship with that dumb bitch. I have no patience nor sympathy towards her loneliness. I've felt my sorry for her, I've reached out a hand even when I didn't want to; I even tried lying and pretending that nothing was wrong. I was doing her a fucking favor. And all she's done is act like she's doing ME a favor by "reaching out" to me. My ass. I have so many friends who are a million light years into awesome, supportive, understanding, funny, and independent. I can say that I'm lucky to have them, or I can say that I know how to make them and I'm fucking happy that I know how, being 18-years-old and completely independent in my own personality. At least I have some respect for myself and my family and friends.

I have art school to go to.