Currently What's the Time Mr. Wolf? By Noisettes see related

where the wild things are.

i spent what little money i had on shoes. how outrageously girly of me.

i love glee. the show.
as opposed to...the club our school does not have.

my mum had a dream that i went to prom with robert pattinson. hahaha.
as if id ever go to prom.

you know whats awesome? the fact that every time i type something into my ipod that starts with a g it auto-corrects it to gryffindor.

the world cannot handle me.

today sucks. it feels like a sunday. tons of hw to do, and nothing on tv to distract me. law and order is so boring.

craaaving a peanut butter thing.

im a bitchy psycho and everyone should stay away from me. but dont.
please?

you get points for bravery, sweetheart. otherwise...you have zero points.

amy said ryro and i would make a cute couple because we both have brown hair. which is a terrible basis for a relationship. and she said his apparent sweetness would balance out my craziness and cruelty.
which made me dislike her a teeny bit less.

i love the word vindictive. i am very vindictive.

i think we have reached the age where i should be able to say hi to you after years of noncommunication without it being awkward.

why is it that sometimes, collegeboard remembers that they have provided me with free score reports, and most of the time they forget?

after i visit brown this weekend, im totally going to write some college essays.
totally.

where can i find an absinthe around here? alissa, i think theyre still legal in england. buy me one?
ps your comments are fantastic self-esteem boosts. especially since my friends have been decidedly lacking in that category this year.

you know what else is a fantastic self-esteem boost? reading teacher recs.
goldens and goyettes are so sweet. basically, im the most amazing student theyve ever encountered. =)

i always end up on obcene sites when i do that thing where i type random words and add .com.
btw if you search love on love.com, the first link you find will concern the stars of the twilight films. what has the world come to?

someday, someone will have the heart to tell you that you have no talent for any of the careers you hope to pursue. when i think of you, i think of the phrase 'those who can, do. those who cant, teach.'

it sucks that i didnt apply early anywhere. my q1 report card is kickass.

our rules of romance in lit were interesting to write. i wanna write some that are specific to me.

dianna's rules&regulations of modern love.
*i know i am unapproachable. you need to be brave.
1. buy me snapple.
2. accept my obsessions, please.
3. hold my hand.
4. dont say i told you so.
5. i love arguing. be okay with this.
6. love my curly hair and glasses.
7. never expect me to make the first move.
8. text me good nite and good morning.
9. never, ever, ever cheat. ever.
10. dont be bothered by the fact that i cant say i love you.
11. never criticize how i look, what im wearing, or how i did my hair.
12. save me when im being awkward.
13. dont call me mean, even when im being really mean.
14. be optimistic in the face of my pessimism.
15. dont let my secrecy or my mood swings get to you.

lit is one of my favorite classes, but i feel very isolated from everyone else. everyone was talking about how the class has become a family, but i definitely do not feel like part of that family.
i have a few friends in there, and i can carry a conversation with anyone in class. but during socializing time, im the only kid standing by herself.
its not a big deal. solitude is my style.
i just kinda hope that it gets better eventually. that i get better eventually.

it sucks trying to make friends at this age. when youre little, you can just be like, hey, can i borrow your red crayon? and then bam, best friends.
but when youve developed a cold, solitary reputation, any attempt at random conversation is awkward and received with apprehension.

it doesnt help that everyone thats ever known me thinks im crazy.
but its not a bad kind of crazy, i dont think.

damn these wild young hearts.

oh, goyette.

Currently The Summer EP By Never Shout Never see related

the open road.

you know what sucks? when you go to click your pen into action and its one of those stupid twisty-bottom pens.

i see a lot of myself in michaela fascione. thats depressing.

screw calc. i hate math, okay mr lord? no amount of string theory or rocketships or matching socks will ever make me like your class. or even keep me awake.

i actually like having my picture taken. i just hate that it always comes out bad.

i hate that i always look tired. i hate how i dress. i hate how self-destructive i am. i hate how awkward and out of place i feel even around my best friends.

i havent written in agesssssss. i misssssss it.

none of my interactions bring any happiness into my life. its not a matter of me being antisocial. its a matter of everyone sucking.

im so angry right now. livid.

in that gloomy mood again, but this time, im not gonna cry.
im gonna let the rage build up inside of me and deal with it alone because god knows i cant count on anyone.
i can literally feel it burning in my stomach and shortening my lifespan.

so im gonna smile through clenched teeth and get a b on my ap lit test on thurs and bomb my sats on saturday.
fuck.

i dont like swearing.

i hate hate hate being a teenager but i have to say.
i need a goddamn car.
not want. neeeeeeed.
do i ever go out? do i even like to drive?
no. i need to go to/from school because no one can/wants to give me a ride and im not waiting til 4 for you to come pick me up, mum/dad and ive skipped tons of meetings cuz of this.
i dont like bothering melissa and i am sick of my dad yelling at me to get up earlier and its annoying having to sprint to cenzie's car every afternoon.

next time my dad leaves without me, im just not going to school.
i hate it there anyway.
i wonder if anyone with grades as high as mine has ever hated school as much as i do.

i need a job.
im not saying this in that 'oh, i need a job one of these days, some money would be nice' way.
they say if i can pay the insurance theyll buy me a car.
that prolly wont be black, even though thats the only thing i care about.
i cant. i just cant work. i cant do anything. i cant interact with people and i cant focus long enough to count anything and i just refuse to work at market basket.

my mom is sick and i hate having to drive everyone everywhere and answer the phone and do everything and listen to her be upset that im livid.

i know its futile and stupid to wanna stay in the past. but i was so happy then!
in 1997, before school ruined my life and my biggest problem was the fact that danny always beat me when we raced, i didnt even know what depression was.
when toys r us was my favorite store and just the theme song for that show 'are you afraid of the dark?' kept me up at night.
i wanna be five and pretty and watch rocket power with danny and david forever and ever and ever and i would not regret losing my future one bit.

i dont regret anything.

im supposed to be researching allosteric enzymatic inhibition right now.

_________________________

i wrote all that on monday or tuesday. i forget which.

pretend these are two seperate entries.

remember, remember
the fifth of november
the gunpowder, treason, and plot.
i can think of no reason
why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot!

im in a bad-writer mood fyi.

psssst. youre very attractive and charming. but im sure you knew that.

immmmmm hermioneeeeee graaaaaaaaanger.

please please please please please please please anyone but you.

could you be any more obvious?
i thought that today. at you. and now that sk8rgrl song is stuck in my head.

do you listen to matt&kim? you should.

400 words short of a reaction paper rawr.

facebook says my most frequently used word is hate. surprise, surprise.

alissaaa take me to england. i hate this place.

maybe two or three times a year, i look in the mirror and dont hate what i see.
i think hey, im kinda pretty. sort of. if the light is dim and you tilt your head...

but even if im not. i dont wanna have to settle.
im such a passionate person. such a romantic. i just cant see myself with someone without at least a hint of a spark. a glint of attraction. i cant really see myself with anyone, actually (LIES).
bri says you have to learn to like people. and i agree.
but that is how you make friends. not boyfriends.
unless its one of those taylor swift/crappy romantic comedy situations that never happen, where you wake up and realize youre in love with your best friend.

dont i deserve to be with someone im attracted to, at the very least?

maybe i dont. maybe i just have to make a few guy friends, and if one of those guy friends decide to propose, i should marry him and live the american reality of a sparkless relationship with a really nice dude i cant hope to leave.

one of the little episodes i play out in my head when im sitting in the cafeteria watching sportscenter, is one where i walk over to that lady with the microphone, take it, and ask, 'who wants to be my boyfriend today?'
as pathetic as that sounds, i wonder what would happen. i mean, this happens in an imaginary school where people take me seriously and actually listen when i speak and everyone is as romantic as me. but really.
ill tell you what happens when i play it out in my head.
nothing. no one moves, the bell rings, and i am lost among a crowd of teenagers (cant you picture it?).

i have no idea how i appear to others. i double take at girls i normally wouldnt notice, and think, am i invisible like her? i see okay-looking girls and wonder if im like that. nothing to stare at, but not repulsive. or like those kids you just dont see as the dating type. i guess im not the dating type. but that is a consequence of various factors. kinda.

im pretty sure telenovelas have ruined me.

11:12. damn.

ill be your "i was only sixteen".

Currently Nothing But The Best By Frank Sinatra see related

baltimore-washington international airport.

i dunno what to say.

im so unhappy, all the time. someone make it stop.

i just wanna pause life indefinitely sit against the wall forever.

georgetown was nice. by no means my top school, or anywhere near it.
but i wouldnt hate going there.
id have to change a lot about myself.

johns hopkins is lovely. but it is not a castle.

hogwarts is unrealistic. (i dont mean the magic, moron.)
theres no way kids could have that much school spirit or abide by the dress code so religiously.
there will always be the emo kid who whines about how magic is stupid and the jerk who loses house points on purpose and the girl with blue hair who refuses to wear the uniform.

i wonder if voldemort was a fan of quidditch.
tom riddle in the chamber of secrets was so much more attractive than kid who played him in half-blood prince.
it bothers me a crazy lot that they didnt give dan radcliffe green contacts.

ive felt the spark with three schools.
one, i know is perfect. i would literally do anything to go there.
but i know i cant.
ive avoided visiting because i dont want to fall in love and then have my dreams shattered, which they will be, but maybe not having been inside the campus will lessen the pain?

i wonder if maybe im not cut out to be a city girl.

ross is so funny.
"i wish i went to a private high school, dianna."
"me too, ross."
"next time, then."

i wanna surround myself with people who make me smile.
i wanna believe in god.
i wanna need to be productive.

i wonder if all my elementary school adversaries still hate me.

i wish i could just get a job as some attractive ceo's overpaid receptionist. that would be my dream job.
well, actually, my dream job would be editor of the new yorker. or a well-known author.
lets not get into this again.

i was reading angels&demons at the same time i was reading the northwest passage. the protagonists were robert langdon and langdon towne, respectively. it got confusing.

what a jerk, that mark twain. he reminds me of family guy. nothing and no one is safe from his witty criticism. which is hilarious until he insults something you believe in.

"in matters of opinion, all adversaries are insane."

hey, lets maybe start a college app.
or not. forget i said anything.

im in that can-anybody-find-me-somebody-to-love mood.

stupid, stupid, stupid romantic.

my head hurts.

i belong in the seventies.
not just cuz of my lingo, my style, my desire to do...things.
its the mindset, the second lost generation, the never-satisified, self-destructive, secretive vagueness.
the affairs and unhappy marriages. its a comfort to imagine that even someone as unstable and unapproachable and unattractive as me could get married, albeit unhappily.

its so weird. i love catching myself doing things that are so incredibly human, so normal. but i also hate it. i hate being human more than anything in the world. i pride myself in being different.
being able to relate to someone is both incredibly comforting, and a blow to my ego.

to be clear— i will be as contradictory, hypocritical, and redundant as i wish to be.

ignore me; ive been reading tim o'brien.

tick tock, the clock is turning red.

Currently Partie Traumatic By Black Kids see related

manhattan.

for someone who never cries, it doesnt seem to take a lot to make me want to cry.
these days especially.

i loved the swings as a kid. i didnt need any friends to swing. i could do it by myself, and think. even now, swinging alone fills me with a fluttery euphoria i cant get anywhere else.

in kindergarten, i hated taking turns on the swings because that meant kids would nag me while i was trying to think and pretend that the only thing that existed was the sky. sometimes i had to nag kids for a turn. i always asked tom, because he was tall and blond and sweet and i kindergarten-loved him. if you look at my kindergarten picture, im sitting next to alex larosa because i guess we were friends then, and im looking at him suspiciously with that skeptical look i always have. kindergarten is a blur to me now. all i remember are tom and alex and the class hamster and miss danielle and "walk dont run youll have more fun" and learning weird english words like tattletale and the swings.

when i was a first grader, sarah raye was my best friend. we spent all our time together, played together after school, and mailed each other letters on a weekly basis. one day, she stayed home sick, so i walked around the playground alone, very confused. some other kid sat on the swing i usually reserved for sarah and teased me about liking alex larosa, even though at the time i was in first-grade love with andrew horlacher.

by fourth grade, i had a reputation. i was the smartest girl in class and the smallest girl in class. i stole every solo away from the other girls in chorus. i was the best at drawing. whenever there was a project to do, everyone lined up at my desk so i could do their bubble letters. i had more enemies than any other fourth-grader, and looking back, i dealt with more drama than most. i loved it, craved it, created it, even if it meant teasing and ruined friendships and insults that would stay with me forever.

i also had the prettiest hair because my mum spent painful hours doing it every morning, and i never dared to mess it up. ive always been very careful with my hair. it was atrocious in middle school because based on my peers' boring ponytails, i assumed it was time i learned to do my hair myself. i could do ponytails and messy buns, and spent hours blow-drying and straightening like everyone else so it would be boring and flat like everyone elses. then one olympics day in 8th grade i got fed up with greasy, burnt, flattened teenage hair and left it soaking wet, and everyone was all "dianna your hair is so pretty!"

narcissist narcissist narcissist. i dont really mind anymore. everyones a narcissist.

i should not be on my own with this college thing. deadlines obviously mean nothing to me, ive written an amazing total of 1 college essay that i have little intention of passing in, and im picking schools based on how i would sound saying "oh, i go to ________" and their resemblance to hogwarts.
the rents arent worried because theyve decided im pretty much on my own money-wise, and my guidance counselor goes from thinking my sat scores are less than impressive to insisting columbia university is a safety school for me.

for some reason i cannot fathom, jamie klufts is the only girl i talk to about college stuff.

i was sitting by the cafe this morning when this "cool" kid strides down the hall (late to class) in skinny jeans and an obscure band tee even though it was freezing this morning, flips his cheaply dyed black hair, and gives me a look before continuing down the hall with his music blaring.
i literally laughed out loud at the effort he put in to fit into the stereotype.

im kind of a music snob. i generally look down on others' tastes in music and keep mine to myself. but i feel like that goes along with my secretive nature more than anything else.

every time i walk into bio or calc i brace myself.
please, for the love of god, dont let him teach today!
and then he teaches the hell out of me.

sitting in front of nick gallo is annoying because you know when the kid behind you stretches out his legs and you dont know where to put your legs so you can avoid the awkward foot-touching no one acknowledges but you kinda wish they would?
yeah.

i love telling mrs jeans stuff. shes so encouraging. the only thing is that my know-it-all-ness in that class of five people makes me the obnoxious hermione granger of the class.

im so excited about my success in calc so far. i havent done this well in a math class since the 7th grade.

loveee lit. hateeee ms brouses shoes. she needs to stick to her cute boots. i am impressed by her devotion to skirts regardless of the temperature.
i have come to the conclusion that:
josh is not annoying.
alissa is awesome.
chelsie is an incredible writer.
kyle is very insecure.
i am too mean to amy.

i keep wanting to text you, chelsea. or hug you when i see you in the halls. but were not very good friends, and i know how little things can bother you and i dont wanna make you uncomfortable, and what would i say? that youre in my thoughts? you are, but that sounds stupid.

im crazy.

i think ill blow my brains against the ceiling.

Currently Grand By Matt and Kim see related

far, far away.

i dont how im going to do all this.

im getting better, i think. im trying. its just...very painful for me.

i hate hate hate shots. poor nurses. just as theyre about to stick the needle in i panic and fight them off.
literally.

my ego cannot handle this year.

i feel like every song I've heard by jet was written about me.

i wish i could wear sunglasses in school.

almost every word out of my mouth is a lie.
this is me trying to be honest.

i need you to be cooler.

youre the man. both of you. but when you talk...i stop listening.

i want to confide in you.

would you please just answer yes or no? i cant focus long enough to care about your long-winded explanations.

i like you. youre cool and interesting and i dont care what everyone else says cuz youre one of my fave people to talk to.

your opinion doesnt mean as much to me as it used to.

shut the FUCK up! good god! listening to your voice makes me wanna slit my wrists. srsly.

none of them care for you, and i see why...but i like you.

im really glad you found her.

you need to stop living in the past, babe. life is gonna be hard on you.

stop trying to be like me. trust me, you cannot handle it.

you and i have a lot in common. but i dont like you because well. youre a dork.

you are a good-looking dime-a-dozen asshole. good thing weird kid obscures my view of you in that class.

you are not good enough to get into those schools.

you are too good to go to those schools.

stay away from me. you see through my false modesty too easily and i dont need my lies exposed.

the reasonable part of me is considering the idea that youre smarter than me. the rest of me is banishing away the suggestion indignantly.

i relate to you more than anyone. and im kinda scared your life is going to be my story.

i cant decide whether i mind you or not.

i def like you. but youre so like her i feel like anything i tell you, im telling her.

i wanna dance with you.

i (almost) fooled you all.

dont act like youre better than me or i will hate you forever.

i feel like there are weird moments between us where i decide to be honest with you and you inch away. then you run back, saying 'forget it!' because you like me.

this is getting too personal for my tastes.

you know me better than i thought you did.

you remind me of frederick zoller. if i snap at you, will you shoot me?

i hate your friends.

you looked cuter with your old glasses.

stop complaining that you have no time. you have time.

listen to me when i talk to you!

what would i do without you?

i cant be friends with you in this setting. sorry.

ill never forgive myself for not sticking up for you.

i only tried to be your friend because she was your friend. then i remembered that i generally dislike any of my friends friends. hence my lack of clique.

people like you and not me because you dont hide your antisocial awkwardness behind an evil glare. i have best friends and you only have friends because you hide your true personality from everyone but me.

youre screwed when i leave.

im sorry. im just so tired.

i understand that youre bitter about them. but you need to stop pestering me.

frankly, theyre far more interesting than you.

i feel like im being considered for initiation. part of me wants it.

im not trying to scare you. on second thought, yes i am.

sorry you got stuck with me. thats just how it worked out.

you think im dangerous.

your college essay was flat-out terrible. i dunno what to tell you.

i dont hate you. why not?

youre vastly unhelpful and i wanna do this by myself.

why am i so obnoxious? oh wait, i dont care what you think.

you are crossing the line. i dont wanna be friends with you.

i realize that im a project to you. try to befriend the antisocial girl. dont look at me like that.

your eyes are pretty. i think ive liked you all along and that is not okay.

im rather possessive of you considering youre not mine.

youre adorable. did you know that?

sorry im so awkward and weird. i was trying to be social.

i cant talk to you about any of this.

youre perfect. i want to hug you. get out of my face.

im not gonna bother saying anything to you because you always know when im talking about you.

yeah, maybe im really dependent on others.
but thats better than lacking emotional independence.

right?

kissing, drinking, pushing and shoving.