I'm not sure how this makes me feel.

Dear you ,

You're so freaking cute !

( & I just can't get enough of you.)

Today I had an accomplishment

I ran the whole lap without stopping.
It was practice.

I'm proud of myself.

I'm going to see

Jack's Mannequin April 26th.

And you can not stop me.

You can tell me I'm not going all I want

but you can not stop me from seeing and (hopefully) meeting Andrew McMahon.

There is not any hope in the world that could help you stop me from seeing him.

I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate you.
I loathe your existence.

You're piling shit on shit.
Become a fucking plumber, would you?

I'm really getting tired of it all.
I'm glad I'm alive.

But you need to go fucking get smacked in the face again.

Asshole.

It's just life.

And they're just mistakes.

And they're just memories.
And they're just everything.

It's just a beer.

It's just a laugh.

They're just the memories.

This is all so new. This age is so freeing.
Not invincible. You are never invincible.

And you are forbidden to ever think that you are invincible.
Invincibility in unexistent.

It's your own choices that end up defying who you are

and who you have become from who you were yesterday.

It's so complicated and confusing and unexplainable.
It's thrilling and exciting and intruiging.