Today was okay.
Study Hall was fun; it was in the cafeteria. I sat with Ry-Ry, Rachel, Jake, and then people I didn't really like... >_> Dylan BS comes over and hands this paper to Rolando. He drew RoRo as a dog with an afro, heavy-lidded eyes, and poofy lips. Then at the top in caps it said: JESSICA'S b***h.
>_>
That was cool.
But now Ry-Ry's always so cold towards me and I feel so depressed.
What did I do, man?
*sigh*
And Track practice was weird, because for some reason only a third of the team showed up. The throwers practiced with these weird shotputs filled with sand that we threw around using different parts of our arms, legs, and back. Then a pylo workout, and then we just walked a couple times around the track before doing one 200m sprint.
It's just that the day felt so un-fufilling, y'know? And it didn't feel like a Friday.
I've started a new diary and this time I have a few new reasons.
One, I have no friends left.
Two, so I can read back and remember what I did the day before.
And three, so if I die, at least I leave a nice little suicide note of my life.
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ASK YOURSELF in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity..." - Rainer Maria Rilke
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