uhmm… hi there. I won’t be posting on this blog anymore, due to the fact that some people in my school actually read it. And when it’s something bad, of course, I’m the one always getting in trouble. I won’t use tumblr anymore.
I apologised to the person I wrote about in my past post because she found it out through an “anonymous” resource. Even though telling the school psychologist about it INSTEAD of confronting it to me face to face and talk it out was a pretty cowardly move. However, I did reread what I posted and I was pretty amused that I can write something so graphic. But then again I wrote it half-asleep so I wasn’t thinking well. Anyways, I apologised, won’t happen ever again, and I will never express my anger in anyone or anything ever again. I guess my way of coping with anger is not acceptable to society. Keeping it in and getting headaches is. I guess I’ll be doing that then.
Goodbye, have fun with your life and I hope I didn’t waste your time reading this. Maybe you’ll see me around sometime. I won’t delete this account, because like my best friend said, all my memories are here… I mean, I’ve had this blog for three years… I guess this will be my archive of my high school years… yea? Bye. :) <3
My third period class was empty today.
I meant to post this yesterday… and it’d be a waste to NOT post it at all. I was too scared to post it on fb because of privacy issues and shtuff… xD
I went as a pumpkin and so did Krystal, my build-a-bear. We had lots of fun… except for the fact I slept at 8:30 and woke up at 4, leaving me no time to do most of my homework. Happy yesterday Halloween everybody! :)
Never in my entire existence have I imagined someone that I can possibly kill and or bang their head on the concrete floor of the tennis court, being satisfies that blood is coming out as I bang her head against the floor, hearing her “cheerful” voice screaming, “please stop, I’m so sorry”.
I hate our “cocaptain”. She is a bitch, a brat, and I just plain hate her personality. People might think she’s nice, but Nahhh. I want to see her dead. After all the crap she’s put me through, she talks behind my back and I end up crying because people are so selfish to not help or do something nice for someone. She’s the reason there’s a cut on my leg. No one notices it because my legs are all the way down there, making it impossible to notice.
She’s the reason why I’ve given up hope in humanity. Maybe it’s because she’s younger than me. She’s an immature senior who is so self centred that she brings these burdens unto others. I’m done with her. I won’t talk to her and I’ll just pretend someone raped her and left her to die by the tennis courts. She’s dead to me. I can’t wait until she graduates or quits high school, doing us a favour and not make things so dramatic. Goodbye,
Kristin Mendoza. It’s been nice knowing a person like you. Now I learned to stay away from people like you.
Why do middle schoolers stress the idea of originality…..
“Hey, she’s copying my style!” Or “Hey, I thought of it first!!” Why can’t they just be proud that their ideas have been worthy enough to be copied. It’s funny how these young ladies think. What’s more is how funny they’ll think of the same principle and think about its absurdity.
I don’t know if I’ll have any time to write any letters because I may be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter, I want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about, or know someone who’s gone through it. You made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen and there are people who forget what it’s like to be sixteen when they turn seventeen. I know these will all be stories some day and our pictures will become old photographs. We all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now, these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here. I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and you see the lights on the building and everything that makes you wonder, and you’re listening to that song, on that drive, with the people you love the most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.