You Don't Know Me

I'm just....gah. I'm going to the club with Austin Howe the evening of my birthday. That and getting my industrial done are the only highlights of my birthday. The industrial is being slightly overshadowed by the fact that my mother is still trying to talk me out of it even though my birthday is on Friday. Less than a week away. It sucks. Everything sucks. I'm so sick of that bitch. Just tired. I am my own person. I will never be exactly who you want me to be. Don't be such a bitch about the fact that I'm a goddamn individual. I don't want to go to graduation. It's a fucking bogus ceremony for everyone else but me. I just want to chill and relax with fun people. I'm so over it. I'm ready to bash out some windows. I'm so fucking close to the edge. I'm ready to fuck somebody up in a serious way. I'm angry and I'm over the bullshit. SO SO SO over the bullshit. Fuck this shit. I have to do a series of things:

• Get a job.
• Get car insurance.
• Get car.
• Move the fuck out.

All of that is going to fall in the place once I get the job. Most jobs come with benefits so there's the health insurance (I didn't list that). With the check comes the place to live and the car and the insurance.

I can't take this anymore.