dream diary

omg so good.

ok for shits and giggles, ie no reason at all, i decided to hop on a plane to america.
the plane landed and i was in the airport in LA. next to the airport was a train station, and i was about to get on a train and go to another city but then i saw my friend blake.
he was with some friends, as he had been in america for a few weeks longer than me and they were all pretty cool. they were all male.
i told him i was thinking about going to another city and he was all "hell no, LA is where the party scene is at" but without that black tone of voice. i told him that i would stay in LA with him and that we should go out that night.
then i asked where they were staying. then they said "what, you don't sleep here, you don't live here, you just stay up all night and keep walking around with your duffel bag."

fuck i wish i could just do that.

then we met up with some other guys who had two trashy looking girls with them. i didn't like the look of them but i was happy to have some female company (that's odd, i hate women). the men then somehow stripped me so all i was wearing was a t-shirt, and started throwing me around, catching me and then throwing me to the next person. it sounds violent and despicable but it wasn't, it was all in good fun, i was just worried about my bum bum showing. then one of the guys was just carrying me, it was kinda cute. then he stroked my head and said "hey, you have real hair!" it wasn't till then that i realised i was blonde in this dream, with permanent hair extensions. they looked really good and even though you could tell my hair was dead my hair looked awesome. i can't wait to look like a barbie again.
so anyway, then i got changed into a mini, tight cheetah print dress and black heels. i looked so stereotypical slut and i don't care i looked hot. i also had lovely, smokey dark eye makeup on and omg. i would fuck me. i was also a lot skinnier than i am, and WHY CAN'T I LOOK LIKE THAT IN REAL LIFE? we got to a club, and it was like a private room in the back of it, almost like an apartment. there were cute black leather couches and rest rooms and a beaded doorway that headed back out to the club.
we sat around drinking fancy, fruity drinks, and i can't remember too much except that at one stage i fell over one of the couches backwards and ended up upside down. woopsies,  i'm being mighty slutty in this dream.
then i hopped back on a plane back to australia to work one shift. (?!?!?!?!) afterwards i came home to wash my clothes and dye my regrowth before going back to america.
mum came into the bathroom while i was dying my hair and was like "oh hi sweetie! what are you doing home? how was your friends place?" and i was like "lol wtf i was overseas."
then after doing everything i needed to do i went back to the states and stayed there party-hopping for about a week.

when i am older i am going to do this for like a month i swear.

never, ever happy

and i'm sick to death of it. it's mostly when i'm at home.
not that being at home is bad, i love it and i barely even go out anymore, it's just being alone i think.
but at the same time, i mostly like to be on my own because people always hate me and they suck.

lately i've been hanging out with some really lovely people though. by lovely i mean cunts that are particularly funny and do fun things, things that i like to do, instead of boring shit that everyone else i know does.
i'm not making any sense, i never know what i'm talking about and i hate myself.

the other night my boyfriend also basically told me he's losing feelings for me. he says it's hard to love someone who's always snappy and always angry.
i try so hard. he doesn't see it and i feel horrible that i even have to try, but my mind is just so set in stone.

i get it from my father, and i hate that because i do not get along with my dad at ALL.
i'm so stubborn, and i have OCD with certain things and i will yell at anyone if they mess those things up. for instance, doing the dishes or really anything that involves the kitchen. man i sound like a stereotypical woman.
but seriously, it's so bad and it's what sparks most of the fights between my boyfriend and i when he's at my house.
i hate when people cook things at my house and don't clean up, or don't clean up the right way. or when they leave the toaster on, or the microwave on. things like that. hate hate hate.

i'm also just incredibly snappy because i'm always on edge. apart from my diagnosed anxiety i also have horrible self esteem and always think everything is directed at me.
then if i'm upset, which is pretty much always, i'm just generally rude and overly sarcastic to my boyfriend.
i hate that about myself, well i hate almost everything about myself, but i just wish i was a kind, decent person.

this rant has made no sense at all.