June 23, 2003 - 12:02 a.m.
I know now why I hate dance.
I got instant messaged by a girl a few minutes ago. She wouldn't tell me who she was, just kept calling my hot ans sexy. Told me that she was watching me at dance. She said a boy from dance liked me. Mad really crude remarks about how he wanted to screw me and about how big his penis was. And she now, she said, because she had tasted it.
Maybe she thought that if I thought he liked me, I would run up and pledge my everlasting love for him.
Because that's so funny, right?
To make fun of the outcast. Just because I don't fit into their little cookie cutter molds. It's hilarious to make fun of me.
I wanted to think of something clever to say back to her. All that came out was a "fuck you" before I blocked her from my list.
I hate her. And I will find out who she is. And I will bring her down. Not physically, but socially. I will make sure every girl up there knows what a disgusting and lying bitch she is. I will tell her to her face that I hate her and that she's a whore.
And I don't care what they say about me. I never cared to begin with.
Which was my problem, I suppose.
