i hate my life. i hate waking up. i hate trudging through the same old dirt every single day. i hate the fact that i have 45 friends on here and only receive 1 message/hug a week. i hate feeling like i don't matter. i hate the fact that my cousin told me i could stay at his house as long as i wanted to and then told me a few days later that it was time for me to leave and with very little time to plan it (as soon as i woke up and came downstairs). i had 10 minutes to get ready and was being rushed the whole time (he wanted me to go in the clothes i slept in)). i hate the fact that i didn't call my mother that day because she was going to have me over for dinner and my sister's bf was supposed to drive out that night or the next morning to bring my niece to visit, and i could've gone back with him for free. i hate the fact that the girl i sat next to on the greyhound liked me and i pretty much ignored her for the whole trip because i had a sinus headache and lacked the energy to talk. i hate the look she had on her face when she got to brantford and slid by me without looking at me or even saying goodbye. in general, i hate myself because i always make really bad decisions or come up with the right solution when it's too late to matter. so, basically, i'm screwed.
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