Current mood:	silly
Current music:	"Only in Dreams" -Weezer

Prove to You That I Have Brains
I've come to the a conclusion, that in retrospect, was obvious. I'm stupid. So damn guillible and easily influenced.

I talk to Emily. I feel like shit being without her and I feel like I need to be with her. My blood boils when she mentions "Alex". A smile comes to my face when she reminisces about us. Good god. I'm like some...I don't know. Something that can have it's emotions swung around violently for no reason. What do they call those things? Girls? HA HA. BuRn oN fEmAlEs!!!11 Yeah. Anyway.

I talk to Sarah. I think, "Wow, this chick is great! What do I need that other bitch for?" I grin when she makes perverted comments. I get this awesome self-confidence boost everytime she compliments me. And then as soon as I stop talking to her and start talking to that Emily, I feel lower than piss again.

Retarded.

God. At times like this I step back from my own emotions, look at myself, and how I've been acting, and realize that I'm no different than those idiotic, stereotypical television characters I see on my television screen when I watch television. I hate being this typical emo livejournal-bitch kid. But that's what I am. All this 'drama' in my life is so damn cliche, it's not even FUNNY, man.

Oh my, a youth torn between his first 'love' and a new girl, as he struggles with the concepts of self-worth and the meaning of life! The trials and tribulations of Mark's coming of age are all reported here, in this web page that's totally indistinguishable from that of literally tens of thousands of others! And even this fucking little speech has been said thousands of times before!

Right now, I realize what a jackass I've been acting like. I know that Emily is a stupid 15 year old girl, and I'm a stupid 17 year old guy, and we dated a little, and it's done now, and I should just grow up and enjoy another little romance. I know that now. But I also know that tomorrow at about this time, I'll be probably on the phone with Emily. And I'll be trying so hard to steer the conversation towards what I want it to be, and she'll be stubbornly refusing, and I'll be acting like a dumbass.

After this weekend, though, I feel things are going to be shaken up. Emily's going to the movies with some dude. I'm going to Prom with Sarah. Stuff's probably going to go down. Sarah might go down. HA HA. Emily wouldn't. She's too reserved. Actually, so is Sarah. Damn.

Anyway. Whatever, I can talk to therapist Phil about it come Monday. And he'll just smile and nod. But I don't care. I know he doesn't care what happens in my life, but it's good to vocalize these thoughts to real people. Especially people that don't know you, or care. Then it's like talking to a wall. You have nothing to lose when talking to him. You don't have to hide anything. Because if he told everybody he knows everything I've ever told him, absolutley nothing would change for me. It rocks. I tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And sip coffee as he smiles and nods. He's obligated to pretend to understand whatever the fuck I'm rambling about.