i. need. money.
written: 7:47 p.m. on Saturday, Jul. 08, 2006

SHIT SHIT SHIT. I NEED MONEY SO BADLY THAT I'M AT A LOSS OF THE APPROPRIATE WORDS TO DESCRIBE MY DESPONDENCE; HENCE I'M RESORTING TO TYPING IN ALL CAPS SO AS TO CONVEY THE DEPTHS OF MY DESPERATION AND SADNESS AND GLOOMY...NESS.

Why does life suck so hard? Why am I too lazy to find a proper job?

Seventy-seven dollars, for crying out loud. And there I was, thinking I still had a good two hundred bucks to go before I declare myself bankrupt. I'm so desperate that I'm going for an interview at some modelling agency, though chances are I'm way too fat to model. Shit. I can't believe this is happening to me again.

I swear, my mom totally gave me her spendthrift gene. Of course, that was when she had a relatively high-paying job and could afford to splurge every now and then. The difference between her and me is, of course, that I don't have a high-paying job; never did, probably never will, LLB (Hons) or otherwise (since, you know, I'm not gonna be a lawyer or anything like that, because I'd seriously rather die).

And the worst part of this entire fiasco? I don't even know where my stupid money went.

I need clothes! I need books! I need DVD! I need spending power! I need money! Someone help me!

This is ridiculous.

**

Here's a tip: Don't make promises you never intended to keep.

**

Here's a tip for myself: Don't go out with people whom you can't afford to lose.

Even better: Don't go out with people whose affection you can't take, which would only make you run in the opposite direction.

I think I am the biggest moron ever. By moron, I mean emotional retard. Sexual idiot. I should've got laid ten million years ago, for god's sake. This is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH ME.

I'm telling you, the urge I had to just run away that day was the strongest in quite a while. This is what I do best, you see: when things get a little bit intense my first instinct is to bolt. And there I was, whining on and on about how I want drama in my life, and when I was really confronted with drama I decided that I didn't want to deal.

I still don't want to deal. I leave them waiting and trick them into thinking I don't care, when in fact I think about them all the time. And I don't really know why, and I have a faint idea that I'm using them, that it's not them I want but what they represent. The feeling of being worshipped - I've missed it. It's so egotistical and disgusting but I've missed it and I like it. It makes me feel wanted...even better, it makes me feel desired. And I would've given in but I didn't, couldn't, because I knew it was wrong, or at least not right.

Even if you'd stayed and I'd gone along with you, I'd be using you. Nothing more, nothing less. That's why I pulled back that day, wanted desperately to leave, haven't contacted you at all.

I'm a trainwreck. We'd be like Marissa Cooper and Kevin Volchok (and no, I can't believe I'm using an OC reference. God help me), a disaster waiting to happen.

Well, what does it matter.

**

Strange, isn't it, that the only guy that's truly wanted me in a really, really long time is currently 9539 miles away.

Needless to say, if I felt the same way, I'd only be in it for the physical gratifications.

I feel sick to my stomach.

I want to be normal.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010