jlevi

I'm supposed to be the one with the problems. And fuck. Here are two of my best friends, one knows, the other doesn't, fighting. Because of a stupid bitch. One is rightful, the other is immature. I will talk to both sober and knowledgeable of both parties' opinions. It breaks my fuckin' heart to hear the person being wronged say that the other was his best friend, and now he feels so betrayed. Destructive Testing needs to be talked to in the most straight-forward manner possible. Because that is possibly what he needs. Someone to come up to him and tell him how it fucking is. He hasn't worked a god damned day in his life, but here he is living in a house, smoking pot, going to school, while other people work really hard for what he's doing.

I understand I'm not one to talk. My mother pays for my tuition, but I love her for it. It causes me to have mental collapses sometimes due to stress and alcohol abuse. No one knows this. She asked if I was suicidal. It scared me.

I'm going to talk to the two best friends I have here. I am going to tell them both what I know of the other while also telling them exactly what I think they will do and what I will tell the other. I am not a middle man. I am Travis. I am both their friend's. I love them like family, like brothers, but I know one has been wronged, and the other knows nothing of pain or loss.

It is hard being a friend to everyone, it is even harder being truthful to everyone- Travis L.C.


P.S. Some girl at the bar accosted me. She touched me way too much for someone she didn't know. When she saw some girl that fucked her ex she asked if she was prettier. Not giving a shit I said I didn't see her. When she demanded I had to have an answer I said it was because her hair was curly. It was curly. Which was much nicer, in actuality, than the other girl's straight hair. I told her what she wanted to hear. Then she left.