WOOOOoooooOOOOO!!!!!1111!!!!

I hate mondays. Hah, yeah, I still do, and today was another one of those rollercoasters. From really great to, I hate you all, leave me in peace, to really great! to if you take one more step towards me I will rip your gut out with my teeth...and then back to really happy! I started off in the morning, in a really bad mood, but I was happy about it, oddly enough. But then I got into art, and I was no longer happy about it. I don't know why, art just isn't happy anymore. Now english, where to start.... Ah! I hate english. I got nothing done, except a paragraph long blog post, which I had to constantly stop because Barr or someone esle would look over my shoulder. Oh, and now pretty much my whole english class has my link. I wouldn't doubt Barr has it too. Ugh... and then lunch. I was in a firm denial that anything was wrong by lunch. I refused to accept that I wasn't happy... and then... then half way through, it hit me. I wasn't in a good mood, and I have no idea why the hell I was playing it off. So I stopped. Ugh, I got into a lot of arguments with my drivers ed teacher, just becasue, one, I like to argue, two, I don't really like him, I mean he's ok, but I wouldn't choose him as a teacher. Drivers ed was long and boring. And guess what, I tried to play it off again, in geometry. I didn't get very far, but Jenn's endless spring of happyness made me smile a bit. We took a practice test, which I was surprised to see, I got one right. Damn, most people got one wrong.
So, I went home in a horrible mood, basically hating everything. And I stayed like that, through writing my english paper. I mean I was listening to BLS and As I lay Dying, and Three Days Grace, and System of a Down, I wasn't happy if you know that music. And then I went to the Drama meeting, and... everything turned right. I was really happy, a little jittery, but happy. And it lasted, and I was jumping around and yelling. Yeah I was, picture it. And then after I went upstairs, I was good, then, ok, and then...bleh, and now, I'm back to being, I don't know. This music ISN'T helping. Uuuuuh. Boston, that will do. Ok, so, I don't know what to tell you once again. I'm a little surprised, a little upset, a lot upset, a lot tired, a little mad at my self, a little.... a very little hating everything. I guess, most of all, I'm just jealous of... everyone. That's a bold claim, but I daresay it's true. I guess that's my fault, I could probably change 70% of it, and then I'd deal with the rest. But I'm too damn stubborn to admit I'm wrong, or to chance, or to accept something new. Ugh, back to the angry music. itunes is trying to spite me. Beatles, BLS, ok.... ugh Cream, As I Lay Dying. What the hell!? Fine, Seussical! Three Days Grace.
Ugh, fine, the worst words I'll say, "are you sure you would like to exit?" Yes. Click. Gone, now I'm off to Pandora. Good Stuff. Anyway, I seem to be either happy, or I'm mad. There's no median, and I'm rarely sad now too, it's just anger. I'm mad at all the jerks in my school, I'm mad at a teacher, I'm mad at my body for various reasons, I'm mad at the sky probably. And then there's the happy. But never anything else. No, that's a lie, I felt shock today. But that ended quickly, I guess I was also partially sad today, that went fast too. I'm never really mad at specific things that happen, I don't give a damn that some freshman, Tyre or something, punched me with a book, he did it, I got mad at my self. I didn't run a 4:59 mile, I got mad at something or other. I never got mad last year, a stark contrast from 8th. Freshman year I was always calm and cool on the outside to some degree. Now, I'm getting a burning rage back. I HATE fighting, I hate the idea of it, I hate everything about fighting. You could walk up to me a punch me and I wouldn't do anything to you. Chris hit me in the stomach, and I was furious, and I got to a point where I walked to him, and I clenched my fist, and then turned around. That's the closest I've gotten to fighting for a long long time. Wow, I thought after I did it, What the fuck was that Artemis. He's a football player, he's 4 inches taller than you, he weighs 4o lbs more, and he probably likes to fight. I know I don't.
Ugh, I don't know what anymore, I'm such a jumble of emotions. I figured this would happen sooner or later, I mean, like I was an emotionless shell for a year, I didn't feel much of anything. I needed to break sooner or later, just turns out it was later. I don't like this. Any of this buisiness.

Night