I'M the f**ked up one here! B*tch, know your place!
. . . sorry. When I get angry I get all . . . ghetto. Sorry. And let me back up.
My friend Jonathan (the one who recently broke up with his boyfriend, moved out of his parents place and into mine and whose cousin recently died) is going a little nutty. Nutty meaning depressed. And stressed. And, well . . . let me explain something about Jonathan. Now this might not be very nice to say, but I don't count him as a friend. More someone I hang with to not be lonely. But I know he counts me as one. So now he needs serious help and I don't want to be the one to give it to him. There are a few things about him that bother me:
1. He's weak. I mean like really weak. If he doesn't want to do something, he won't do it. It's all instant gratification with him. He's such a f**king child.
2. He thinks he knows me. He thinks he understands me. And nothing bothers me more then people who think they get me and so obviously don't.
There are more complaints but I just don't feel like typing anymore. Sooo yes, I'm a terrible person. Oh well.
And he'll probably need to be hospitalized. Why you ask? Cause he's threatened to kill himself. And my first thought was god please kill yourself and save us all some trouble. Now I'll admit at the time I was really pissed at him, but I'll say it again. I'm a terrible person. Ok. I get it. Oh, and take it from someone who HAS been hospitalized before, it's not fun. Did I mention he's my roommate?
To sum up, I'm being forced to take care of someone who isn't really mentally stable right now. Because, ya know, I'm the f**king posterchild for mental stability.
Ugh. Anyway. I decided to go to a community college for the spring semester. Because, as it turns out, there are not many jobs for a dancer when the economy is in the shit. Although, I have so much AP credit that after about a year at PCC I could transfer to Berkeley as a junior. How awesome would that be?
I'm trying to remember what I've talked about before. I know I talked about the FOX pilot, I know I've talked about the road trip, I think I've talked about rehab. Well I'm not sure. Ehh, I'm too tired to explain now. Later.
And the model is over and done with. He started to bug me.
Met a new boy. Taller. 23. Straight black hair. Hazel eyes. Smart. HIV+. We'll see.
And http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EH1xtMe2tcs
Current song in my head: Feedback - Janet Jackson.
Thats it for me. I need at least 3 hours of sleep to function. Later.
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