I torture myself. I know it.

And also, I’m searching for something in alllll the wrong places. Cliché! But true.

Cigerettes are to some people a big red flag that screams, “Nothing is okay.” I’ve noticed this.


Life life life. I want to come back to Lee, surprising eh? And I want to pass every class with good grades. And I still want to make my parents really really really proud. Bragging kind of proud.

And I want to be a good role model to my little sisters and brothers, Brittany Hayley Zach and Jordan.

And I want to be happy with myself, inside and out.

I’m in sociology- I know I know “Che you just said you want to do well in school, yet you’re writing in your livejournal during class?” There’s no notes to take right now.

My sister Brittany is visiting Lee soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon. Yaaaaaaaaaaaay. =)

I have a sleeping problem. never can I fall asleep. All the time I lay in bed for an hour, get up, go online or do something until I get tired, go to sleep, am exhausted all day. But (lately) I’m not letting myself nap at all during the day in hopes that I’ll sleep at night.

I have a lot to do today. This class is boring and I’m hungry.


You know that part in Something’s Gotta Give where Diane Keaton is continually crying as she’s writing her book. Basically that whole montage where she’s just hysterical, then sorta okay, then hysterical again? Totally me today. But that’s okay, shit happens, you deal and move on.

Tonight- Reggae show in Chattanooga. Then some UTC party where I get to meet Shari’s coooooooool boyfriend, hahaha.

I am happy.

Good conversation =)
Good potential =)

I’m going out to chill with some new people tonight, but these lyrics are best for this point that we’re at:

Good morning to you I hope you’re feeling better baby
Thinking of me while you are far away
Counting the days until they set you free again
Writing this letter hoping you’re okay

I just got off the phone with my mom and suddenly everything that was bothering me has come crashing back down, clouding me. Fucking choking me. None of it was gone; simply temporarily forgotten. I told her I’m seeing a councelor tomorrow because now I friggen HAVE to.

Tear out my hair, grind my nails on my skin… I’m antsy and tired and irritable.

Heart attack.