i lose.

I am Billie Jo. I am Okay. I am happy. And I am in love. I say nothing worth reading, but I love what I say.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I wonder how horrible it would be if I skipped out on my graduation.
If I just ran away that day.

God. If I knew David would be with me, I would go.
But he won’t.
He won’t run with me.
Ever.
And right now.. that’s all I need.

What if I’m never safe.
Or sane.

I just want to run.

Oh yeah!

I’m messing everything up.

Oh yeah. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m mentally insane.
I am, in fact, afraid that my mind will decay.
And that I will rot.

Ha!

Oh. And I’m getting fat.

So fuck.


So I got on facebook today. I checked up update things. And there I had been tagged in a note. A note written by Jeremey Taylor? (We were good friends like, two years ago? For like, three years.) And then I cried.

I thought he had forgotten a lot.

I suppose not.

You stopped calling me babe.
Or baby.
Or dear.

Things just seem distant.

God. What if you’re drifting away from me?

Hai Guys.

I would like to say, Fuck You. Yes. Fuck you. Don’t ask me fucking questions you know that answer to. I really would much rather turn around and just say, “Fuck you.” Seriously. It’s so fucking bitchy. You know I’m having problems with the whole fucking situation.

God. Damn. Bitch.

You’re a fucking bitch. That’s what you are.

The end.