Tuesday, May 24, 2005
never let your guard down.
i hate my life. probably the worst pangs of hate i've had in months. and all cause of you. you hurt me so bad you know. so bad. i can't even be bothered to blog bout it. tired of trying to let people see it through my point of view. friends are on your side as well. sigh...
haha. i hate the school. and the school hates me. i've never felt so much despise for a place before. never. i always thought school was said to be like a second home. i guessed wrong.
i've hated other people worse. but i never thought i'd hate you. you were always an annoying thorn that was easy to ignore if you didn't think bout it. but who would have thought the thorn could be so fatal. you screwd up butch. i hope you get what you deserve.
friends or foes. whatever you are. i've learnt not to trust you with anything. blame it on paranoia or not. but i feel your eyes watching me when my back's turned. i hear your words of spite and anger when i pretend to be asleep. you guys make me sick. children of god. i think not.
teacher, friend, compadre. you will never be. you tell me lies that you expect me to eat up like a puppy left out in the cold. i hate you. you've broken that breech of trust a teacher was to have with a student. or maybe it never existed. holy catholic? my foot.
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haha. i hate the school. and the school hates me. i've never felt so much despise for a place before. never. i always thought school was said to be like a second home. i guessed wrong.
i've hated other people worse. but i never thought i'd hate you. you were always an annoying thorn that was easy to ignore if you didn't think bout it. but who would have thought the thorn could be so fatal. you screwd up butch. i hope you get what you deserve.
friends or foes. whatever you are. i've learnt not to trust you with anything. blame it on paranoia or not. but i feel your eyes watching me when my back's turned. i hear your words of spite and anger when i pretend to be asleep. you guys make me sick. children of god. i think not.
teacher, friend, compadre. you will never be. you tell me lies that you expect me to eat up like a puppy left out in the cold. i hate you. you've broken that breech of trust a teacher was to have with a student. or maybe it never existed. holy catholic? my foot.
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