No. 130

Deal is this, after reading this poem in AP Eng, I realized that i'm totally this person, this person that the poet is saying not to be like. A person that has so much time on his hands that he documents all he does and makes ill related remarks to why something so insignificant goes bad. Just like me. I don't quite understand, well I do, i'm spoiled and I can't help it. For instance, say in the morning I just run into the weight you weigh yourself on. I know now that that day is cursed and it will not be a good day. That's how sad it is, then I look at other things like how my butter knife fell off my plate which is not good. Stupid stuff like that, which doesn't matter, but I make a big deal of it. Dear Buddha, I think I hate myself. TANGENT: Louis Vuitton Pouchette is only around 175 smacks, CHEAPO DUDE, Why didn't I get that instead of those damn Kate Spades?