Hi

I've been having this dream lately. It's really kinda not scary but scary idk.
Basically, there's 8 people in this massive house/asylum place that has been modified to be a bit like a jungle gym type thing. There's also this guy in there in charge of it all. He's a murderer. He has a painted orange face and frizzy short black hair and has like strange eye make up bbut his clothing is normal albeit dark. He kinda trolls around the upper floors. The eight people in the house are me, Beck from Victorious(?), a set of blonde female twins, a 45yr old mexican man, a dark haired girl whose facecI never saw, a femboy with super short ginger hair and a girl who loojs a bit like Velma from Scooby Doo(idk). We all have to try and get out alive. I'm not sure how I winded up in there but I was the only "new contestant". Despite the others having been in there before, it was still hard to get out. I wound up sticking with Beck and Velmawannabe and they knew the place v well. At one point we were all in an upper floor room and the orangevfaced guy came in so we all had to sit down. I screamed obvers. The rest stayed calm. After taunting a couple of us, Orangeface picked out the mexican, sat on a chair and told the mexican to try to choke him from behind. When he started to apply pressure Orange face turned around lightning speed and snapped his neck. Orangeface told us to leave the room. Me, Beck and Velma went downstairs. We found a manhole in the yard outside the building. The walls were too big to climb so we had to go down the man hole. Next thing i know were on a beach at sunset and I'm talking to Beck about what happened and Velma is asleep. Then I woke up.
It was creepishly livid, as usual T-T itold my friend and she thought I'd made it up.
I didn't.
I woke up and my heart was thumping.

Oh wow.

Pretty much had a freakout on twitter and nobody gives a fuck. Good to know my supposed friends give a damn.
Maybe they just think im being over dramatic.

Why did i agree to this

I don't want to go.

My favourite place.

Some one asked me this today.
Most people say their bed or loved ones arms.
I never said it. But mine is a place I've only been to once. I can't even remember how to get there.
There's a ledge on this side of the river. It has a curved bench and an amazing view if the river. It was beautiful at sunset.
Aaron and Katie brought me there last summer.
When I'm sad I imagine I'm there.
Like right now. 

They always say

That musicians are so much hotter than non-musicians.
I never believed it much before cause I knowmusicians and was never particularly attracted to them.
But he started singing and playing. And oh my god. When he looked at me I think I melted a little. Even when he wasn't singing srsly.

I kinda hate hanging around with my friends. It's so much fun and I always wind up crying with laughter. But they make me feel so fat and ugly and uncool and unliked. They never say anything. It's just that they are skinny and attractive and I'm there with at least two stone excess body weight, a gap in my teeth you could fit a book through and a massive nose.
He calls me a beour, like you do your friends. But i always think he's taking the piss.
I hate feeling like this but I can't help it.
And I'm too much of a fucking pansy to cut properly or get an eating disorder so I can feel better about myself. Or get properly depressed.
Is there something wrong with me that im the only person in my friend group who hasnt had an eating disorder?
I dont even get properly depressed. I just get angry for a half hour then go into a state of sheer indifference for a while. But im never happy unless im laughing. Even before and after im just thinking about all my flaws and wondering why anyone would waste their time on me. Im good for nothing except complaining and slagging peoples intelligence. Im not even good at those.

Can i just die now and be done with life?

So...

I just published my drafts. In case you were wondering.

Lolnewblogpostinbed

Two concussions in the same twentyfour hours. Not literally. I just hopped my head off a bath and car boot door thing. He liked my status about the bath one. He either likes my pain, or wants me. I think it maybe the first one. Or maybe he just finds my daily shenanaganss entertaining. He laughs at what I say in school a lot. He thinks I'm so odd.

OOPSNEWPARAGRAPH.
No damn stagecrew for me anymore. It's bullshiza.

I dunno.

Slan go foill, beacain beag.

- Spud.

You.

You are absolutally ridiculous.
I know being a teenager makes you whiny, but you're taking the biscuit factory, nevervmind the measley biscuit.
Every you say lately is negative about yourself.
After about a millions times my patience goes.
I can't help someone who doesn't want the help.

I think I figured out why I'm so shallow.

People talk about whatvthey know, right?
Musically inclined? Talk about music.
Artisticly inclind? Artversation.
Filmingly inclined? Filmotography tipswap.
Me? I don't really have anything I'm good at. So I talk about ehat I know best. Which just so happens to be me.
Does that make sense? In mybhead it does.

~Spud