We'll be fine and supervised.

by Joseph Szabo
It's getting harder to imagine that I'll ever get out of here, that tomorrow isn't just yesterday, only harder to get through. I wish I could just sleep through the rest of the school year, missing Mondays and Migraines. I don't have anything to say except that maybe for once I'll stop pretending because theres nothing wrong with being unhappy.

I don't know what I want anymore, but that's hardly a cause for alarm seeing how frequently this happens. I hope it's just hormones or bad milk or the result of a repressed tofu craving.