Hi.
So I've been thinking about it. And I'm pretty sure the only reason sperm banks exist is so a select group of radical feminists can eliminate the entire male race. They're gonna use their sperm to genetically produce children, which will be mostly female (leaving ten to twenty males per generation to produce more sperm).
It's possible! o:
I mean sure, everyone will eventually be related and the hoo-mans will all probably die of disease in a couple of centuries, but you know. These sort of things usually have a flaw here or there.
.____.
Oh my god, watch this be true and I'll like get hunted down and killed for exposing a secret. I'll be like "I'LL HELP YOU GUYS!!1!!1one!" But they'd probably still kill me.
Labels: yup.
"Oh, hey. I think my computer must've know I'm not doing my homework, 'cause the internet just shut off on me. Ha.
So in case you care (which obviously you do--obviously), I have this problem. And the only way to solve it is to write about it on the internet! (Actually, the solution is to get over myself but this is 100% more fun.)
I'm kinda internally fighting between two "personalities" right now. Ew, that sounds gay (yes, it sounds homosexual because that totally makes sense). What I mean is there is the "old" me, whom (we learned grammar in English today! I can totally use who/whom like a prooooo*) I hate. Of course I don't hate my entire self; I try, at least a little. Anyway, yeah, the "old" me is who I am outside of my (un)limited mind frame. You might know her: kind of annoying, loud, can't really string sentences together on short notice, blah blah blah (I mean I'd go on, but why?). And then there's the "inner" me who is slightly more coherent, and a lot more self-conscious--sick and twisted, all that fun stuff. The one that thinks about roadkill and world issues or whatever. Kind of like the outer me's older sister who constantly wants to punch her in the face for being so stupid. It's like watching someone else fuck up over and over every day and you can't shut it off 'cause this isn't a movie, it's your life (apparently) and when you feel like you're throwing it away it makes you want to finish the job. I complain so much, and I beat myself up over everything and I don't mean to worry you (I'm sorry, okay? I'm 15. I don't have enough money for therapy, and I don't see any reason to stop feeling like shit other than the fact that I don't want to anymore. I'm really sorry, I don't know how) but I am so sick and tired of watching it develop more each and every day. I feel like I'm lying to myself with every single phrase I utter. I've outgrown me, I have.
Why am I even telling you this? I don't expect you to do anything about it.
Whatever. All I know is I have to do something about it before they have to put me on pills 'cause I won't be able to take it anymore. I guess I just want people to know that whoever the hell you met a year ago, two weeks ago, three days ago isn't really who I am. But I can't walk around with this tied to my neck, can I? It'd take way too long to read.
I don't take risks. When I do, it feels good. But I don't take them. I'm like the worst possible extreme of not changing the channel because you are under a blanket and do not want your arms to get cold.
Oh, and another part of me thinks I'm a fucking idiot for posting this on my DeviantART journal. Yep. I have problems. Let's hear yours.
*It'd be real funny if I'm using it wrong. I'm pretty sure it's okay, though."
Labels: deviantaaaaaart.
Hi. I'm Angelica. I like Pokémon and complaining. I'm a youngster, but I freak out like a 42-year-old mother. This is just me worrying about getting into college.