I dreamt my best friend died last night. I walked into an old house I used to live in, and she was laying on the floor, eyes open, not breathing. I touched her fingers, and they were just cold. I freaked out and ran down the road. My cousin was in some house, and he went to go help, but he asked me if I killed her, and I said no. Next thing the dream changed. I was standing behind my high school with her sister, my other best friend. We were just standing there, staring at the snowy ground, not saying anything. Everyone was watching us, to see what we were gunna do, what we were doing. But we were just standing there. We started to walk away. I woke up and I walked into the kitchen. I told my dad I had a weird ass dream. "I dreamt ___ died.". He just looked at me and said "My girl, she did." And I just started crying.

Then I woke up for real, haha. And I was still crying. And I was half hour late for volleyball practise.

Back to business...

So now you're apologizing. After all your SHIT the last week. Pushing your opinions and ideals on us. Yeah, give us your opinion, once, and we'll choose weither or not to use it. Because we're our own people, and that has nothing to do with you unless we want it to. There's a point where people grow out of being so influencial, and you just hung your friendship over our heads as a threat. You pretty much said "my way or the highway."

I can't go back to being so buddy buddy anymore. You fucked us up, yo. I love you, but you fucked it up.

Watching Fear and Loathing, sitting in the dark, fried, tired, waiting for a phone call. I have to get the book. It's probably badass.

My dad is a little high right now from last night. He's still sipping

*knocks on bedroom door*... "My girl, we're gunna get a black baby."
"What?..."
"Yeah, you know when you guys are all gone, we'll adopt a black baby."
"Are you being serious?"
"Yeah, we'll call it Norma."

I think this is comming from the vodka he's sipping, his aspiration to name a child after his mother, and his wife's want of a cute black baby.

And I think it would be awsome. But it should be a boy. And we can name him Norman instead. "Hi, this is my brother Norman. Yeah, that would be sweet."

This summer when I was with my mom, her common law was drunk. He was talking about how awful her parents are to my mom. And they are. And I was tuning him out, when I caught, "...and family doesn't mean shit."  I just stared at him for a long time. "Family means everything."

"No it doesn't"
"To me, yes it does."

"Well to you, yeah, alright, but your mom doesn't deserve that treatment."

I love family. I know, when I get older, I'm going to have a huge family, and when my brother brings over his kids, auntie Tamara will always have gum. I feel bad that Harry hates his family. And that he hasn't talked to his siblings in years.

He's got phneumonia. But he's back home.

lmao.