GOD DAMN IT.

WHYYYYYYY?
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I sort of wish that I would spontaneously combust. Apparently, "combust" isn't a word, according to Firefox.
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That is what I'm supposed to be doing. Except for Mark Twain, which fucking sucks, because I fucking love Mark Twain. Leave it to my English class to suck the fun out of everything I fucking love. Don't get me wrong, it's not Mrs. Koszoru's fault. I actually really like her. But god. Damn. I am honestly on the verge of tears whenever I think of this paper. I don't know, maybe I'm being dramatic or something, but that's just how it is.



P.S.: "Alex Kapranos of the band commented - Tonight: Franz Ferdinand is music of the night: to fling yourself around your room to as you psyche yourself for a night of hedonism, for the dance-floor, flirtation, for your desolate heart-stop, for losing it and loving losing it, for the chemical surge in your bloodstream. Its for that lonely hour gently rocking yourself waiting for dawn and it all to be even again."

"Tuesday night, at the bible study, we lift our hands and pray over your body but nothing ever happens."

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.

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