any writing is fine.

And here it is.

Today was a bad day.  I got stopped on the BART for no reason at all, I think they thought I went through without a ticket or something, and it was just rude.  The guy was like HEY Y OU, YOU, YOUUUU, YOU CAN'T HERE ME?!!? And you know how I never look at people in the eye, I just heard the guy, I didn't even know he was talking to me because I know myself, that I just mind my own business and what could I do wrong by minding my own business besides losing my mind that minds my own business?

It turns out, I didn't lose my mind, but the guy did.  He took my ticket, ran it through a machine, and said thank you to me.  No apology. Frustrated, I said nothing, took my ticket, halfway cried and stood in the BART, waiting for that Richmond train coming in three minutes.

I was such in a good mood that morning though.  I helped a lady print out her ticket.  But I missed my Fremont train by half a second.  Literally.  I wasn't aware that the train arrived as a pressed the "Print 8.10" ticket for the poor foreign lady.  But I felt good afterwards, because I helped her, I made her say thank you with sincerity and pure gratitude.  I had time anyway.  Two hours until class starts.

Maybe I was in a bad mood because of my art class.  Everyone had clippers, they had a partner to share with, but not me.  Not silent me, because I never talk, I always feel ashamed of this kind of stuff.  Asking for something someone else has?!?!  That's me, not asking for it even though I need it.  Why?!?! For my own pride and because of my own genetics that make me so reserved and makes me think things over, with social anxiety and guilt, and shyness and whatever.  In the end, I went through the pain of cutting my wood pieces with a scissor.  Not only that pain, but emotional pain as well.

I was sitting next to four hot cuties.  But I did not talk to them.  Two were in a pair, and the other two were in a pair, and the class was silent, except they were like whispering amongst themselves in their own foreign language.  I could not do anything.  They had their backs turned, their fashion intimidating.  I am such a...

That's all.

And then there's that whole, "hi honey" shit that's going on in my personal social online life.  It breaks my heart, and it's all my fault.  I chose to be this way, and this decision is killing me.  But I chose to be this way, because I know that being the opposite would fuck my relationship with her even more, and may severe ties as severely as that other fucked up time I had.  But for some reason, I'm longing for some kind of feeling.  I'm tired of this emptiness.  Maybe I do need some thunder and lightning around me.  I need to be the fire that my friends need for their cigarette, to burn their lungs out gradually, and then killing them off completely from the dark, lava from hell damnation of lung cancer. Maybe I need those things, and I can move on, to repeat the mess again until I can't take it anymore, and finally end my birth.

And now I have to write this motivational speech that makes no sense.  It makes no sense to me.

"Students present a motivational speech that makes a compelling argument forquality physical education within elementary schools"

An argument for quality physical education.  An argument FOR quality physical education.  COMPELLING, FOR QUALITY.  Those three words combined, plus physical education.  Well it's common sense, and if its only using textbook sources won't all speeches be the same?  Not only that, but I've been in this class for only a week, I won't have much knowledge about it to make it COMPELLING.  I'll just mess around with it, be funny and real to myself, and I hope my humor is contagious like the past times.

I am glad I'm writing here again.  Thank you.

The more I'm writing about her makes me think about her more, making me love her more.  The more I am away the more I think about her making me realize that I probably love her.  I never seen her before, or met her, but I see and feel a lot about her, qualities about her, her way of being with family, her way of dealing with people, I feel that I love it, but I'm stupid, I never met her, she never met me, but I think I've been with her with barriers and what not, but I love her, I think I really love her.  And because of this, I can't seem to like others, I can't approach others because I need her permission, which I can't even get because she doesn't know, and she'll never know, and I'll be stuck like this forever until I become healthy again, or until I reveal the truth, but most likely I won't reveal the truth because of hi honey, she's taken.  And even if I do confess I'll be left with even more embarrassment and stupidity of my own immaturity.

Another reason why I can't have friends.  I either fall for them, or I feel gay.