yesteryearsgirl

so...edit on today's earlier post because i can't sleep. i talked to my dad. i feel like a better daughter at least now. i have been thinking all day about who my "true friends" are. and i really don't know anymore. most of the people in my life are there by circumstance and old memories. sometimes even my oldest friends, the ones i'm most sure about 99 percent of the time, once in awhile, i wonder, are we only still friends because we have no one else. and the truth is, yes. mostly. i mean we still mostly enjoy each other's company, but true friend, die hard, would take a bullet for each other, i don't know. there aren't many, definetly not as many as a few years ago. and sad to say, it's not like i'm being all self-righteous, because i can't say i give a shit about that many people anymore. i care, but not genuinly, not enough to make time in my fucking life for them, when all i do is sit around my apartment anyway, and it's horrible. people i've been friends with for years, some almost a decade, are now just time fillers for me. people to call when i'm bored and need an ego boost that someone on this fucking shitty planet gives a shit about me. and it's the same with them. and i think most of them know it. if they could find more friends they would drop me in an instant. it's happened/i've done it too. i need a group again. i'm so fragmented. wait. this wasn't supposed to be so depressing. damn double posting.

it seems like everyone's profile that i read on sg is really sad. someone's dying, or sick, or got cancer, or has been robbed. what is the dealio. are the journals fake, or do sg ladies really just have shatty luck?

my goal for this summer: make more friends that i actually care about/solidate the friendships i already have, or give them the boot because the fakeness makes me want to puke. also write a book. also take more pictures with my super spiffy camera. also learn to drive. also start to smoke weed again because last summer was a blast before i started fucking hyperventilating and having paranoia. maybe in new york. perfect homecoming gift to josh and lauren i'd say. they love me when i'm high and retarded. i love me like that too. sex is so much hotter. and i need hot sex. living together definetly kills the kink.

i think jet might start to hate me one day because i'm such a bitch to him all the time, just because he lets me be. when did i become like that? i've noticed it more and more lately. i'm not as good at sex, and i'm a bitch all the time. and yet, he still loves me unconditionally. i'm so lucky, and i don't deserve it. if no one else, we are true best friends, because even though i'm such an asshole sometimes, for him, i'd take the bullet. and that gives me a nice feeling when everything else makes me feel like i'm slowly becoming someone i don't like. and that's why, even when i think about the shitty stuff of life, i can honestly say, overall i'm happier than i've ever been. i have the love of my life, and i do have friends, even if i underestimate how much they care about me sometimes/how much i care about them when it comes right down to it. i have a job i like, an apartment i love, i live in asheville, which is the greatest city in north carolina (my opinon) a family that despite the dysfunctionalism and resentment aren't actually that bad. (as long as i live a few hours away) and i'm going to college. and even though it's kind of a question mark as to why and for what, i'm going, i'm grateful to have the oppurtunity. and i can figure it out as i go.

the end. time for bed. i sometimes/always ramble so bad.