Someone told me that my life sounds simple.

Thanks?

I feel . . I don't know how I feel right now. I feel not right inside. Do you ever get that feeling that something is wrong, but you just can't put you're finger on it? I do a lot. Like right now. It's like I'm supposed to know something, I'm supposed to be feeling something, but when I look for that feeling, all I get is empty space.

I said the word feel or feeling five times in the last paragraph. Maybe I should get a thesoraus. Maybe I should learn how to spell thesoraus. Maybe I should get some sleep.

Or maybe not. The thought of going upstairs and going through the motions of getting ready for bed just does not appeal to me at the moment.

Oh I don't know. I really want to say something, I really want to get something out, but I really don't know what it is, and it's really bugging me.

really really really

la la la

words words words

Simple. That's me. Sigh.

I'm in a feeling-sorry-for-myself kind of mood.

Where does one get the right to go around calling people's lifes "simple"? Just because you've read a few entries in their diary means nothing. I think that that person is arrogant. "Oh, wo is me. My life is so hard, and Laura's is so simple." Like that.

I don't know. Don't listen to me. I'm just rambling on because I don't want to go to bed. And I'm a baby.

I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of my life. It's so freaking boring. But I love my life, but that's what makes it so boring. I remember when I was in like eighth grade, I felt very bland and unimportant. I felt like no one noticed me. I wanted a problem. Any problem. I wanted people to look at me in the hallways and say, "That's Laura, she has problems. She . . ", instead of not looking at me at all. I wanted to be known for something. I thought about becoming anorexic, but I loved food too much. So, I still feel unimportant sometimes. I still find myself a lot of the time, with a group of my friends, feeling utterly alone. I still find myself walking through the halls of my school, looking into people's faces, looking for something, but they don't even see me. I'm still the girl that sits in the classroom, buried in a book, not talking to anyone, and pretending she doesn't care. Pretending she doesn't notice that everyone around her is talking and laughing with their friends, while she sits alone. Pretending she likes it. I'm that girl. And I don't like her.

10:56 p.m. April 19, 2003
yesterday . not so yesterday