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If love existed, we wouldn't be so soft & easy to ruin.

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Am I not the one that hurts? Am I not the one that bleeds?
7:03 pm at Thursday, Dec. 18, 2003

I love how old and senile my Dad's parents are. My grandparents on his side are so thick-headed. My grandmother cannot, after 15 years, grasp the fact that I do not like flowers or dolls or the colors pink and purple. They cannot understand that I have no interest in old people jewelry. I do not think that I have ever worn anything they have given me and they STILL don't get it. It's as if they don't care, which sometimes I'm sure they don't. When I was a little kid, they gave me year after year of porcelain dolls, when it got to the point that I was like five and burst out crying. You know what they gave me next year? ANOTHER DOLL. Figures. So anyway, I just opened their present in which they proceeded to give me post-it notes in the shape of a K, which I already own, some earrings that I may or may not wear and a white crocheted handbag thing-a-majig with (you guessed it..) FLOWERS. If I'm feeling motivated I may just take the flowers off and change it around..but maybe I won't. Still the point being that I must still look like I'm five.

Another addition to my semi-weird day is that I got hit on by a lesbian. That was pretty different, to say the least. I don't know whether they were joking or not.

I have a lot of tests tomorrow. It's not good. I might get a job babysitting a blind dog for like 7 bucks an hour. Sweet. Apparently the owners never leave it alone when they go out, so it's like watching a kid except dogs can't talk and they're fun to pet. :)

"Your eyes reflect one-thousand bleeding hearts. You ask me why I'm scared. Does it seem fair? This ordinary voice, these ordinary features insist on your interest.."--REMEMBER MAINE

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