Fuck. That pretty much sums up my mood right now.

I just...I don't know. I don't know. I feel lazy and ambitionless and no one will leave me the fuck alone. Chantel wanted to know why I was mute today, and she didn't seem to think that "I have nothing to say" was a satisfactory answer. Jessie told me that her pet peeve was when I won't tell her what's wrong. A.) Nothing's wrong, and B.) Like she'd listen even if there was? I don't know. My Spanish teacher took me aside today and was trying to get inside my head. She's got this thing where she thinks I'm some kind of genius, and she was telling me that "the flip side of being very smart is that you tend to get very depressed."

A note to everyone I know: I'm not fucking depressed. I'm not fucking "very smart." I'm not anything; I'm just fucking average. I'm fucking normal. I am nothing fucking special. I don't fucking feel like talking to you, and I don't fucking want you to talk to me. For Chrissakes, can't you just leave me alone?

If you've lost track, that was seven "fucking"'s. I've used "fuck" twice.

I want to go crawl into a hole somewhere. I want to feel safe and nonthreatened. I want to be content. I want to not be confused. I want to be able to appreciate all the good things I have. I want to be able to do something besides lie awake in bed. I wish I even wanted to do something besides that. I want to quit feeling sorry for myself. I want this teenage angst bullshit to stop affecting me so much.

I just, I just, I just...I don't know. I just don't know.