I forgot my headphones.

So, now I can't listen to my music in the library. Well, not music. Just one song. Over and over again.

I have my Starbucks interview today. I'm not nervous or excited. I just am. Sort of like, insert your favorite adjective here. I'm blank. I'm happy for my Starbucks interview today. I'm apathetic for my Starbucks interview today. I'm gay for my Starbucks interview today. I'm straight for my Starbucks interview today. I'm stupid for my Starbucks interview today. Well, Ryan told me that I should act like I like to go by the book.

[Quick thought: I wonder who he is? Not Ryan, but Abercrombie. He actually didn't look very Abercrombie today. He was wearing a 'Green' shirt. Be Green? He has an Ibook with him everyday.]

I do like to go by the book occasionally. I like formulas. That's the only thing I love about Algebra. Some part of me just loves using formulas over and over again. 2=1+X. X=1. [Quick thought: X=You.] I like formulas, they're a brainless activity. It brings me an inner peace when I sit down. I go over each problem, and all I have to do is plug in a formula. [Quick thought: Please do not start writing cliche' formulas like Me + You = Love. You're a loser, Chris Bernal.]

I see this girl from school, I had first period with her last year. She was one of the popular kids. And now she's at Cy-Fair. I wonder how she feels. Community college. Most popular kids get into either the Awesome league of schools, or party schools where they can transfer into the Awesome league of schools. Seriously, Texas is big on their college. Texas is big on everything. Except hockey. No one really hears about hockey. At least I don't.

My english teacher just walked by and asked me how I was doing. I wish she had noticed that I was writing a blog.

I wish I could like Ibooks. They're just so weird though. My dad almost got me one, but then I'd feel like just another gay stereotype. Gay gay gay. Look at that gay blank with the Ibook. Look at that gay actor with the Ibook. Look at that gay activist with the Ibook. Look at that gay fag with the Ibook. That last one was dumb.

Goodbye, my almost lover.

"Goodbye, my almost lover.
Goodbye, my hopeless dream.
I'm trying not to think about you.
Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance.
My back is turned on you.
Should've known you'd bring me heartache.
Almost lovers always do."

Should I turn my back on you? Take a chance.

"Reckless dating," she said. "I thought you wanted to start recklessly dating?" He didn't reply. Maybe I should, he thought on the way home. Maybe that would be a good idea, he thought while making dinner. Why can't I do this, he thought while brushing his teeth. Oh my god, he thought as he layed down to sleep. Oh my god.

Love nest.

I wish I was a hippie.

I spent six hours at school today painting. I needed six work hours for my acting I class. Mr. Jones told this one stage manager that I was a great performer. It was weird and very nice. Mr. Sharp was there too. He's the musical director for the Honky Tonk Angels Holiday Spectacular. I know. He was flirting with me? I didn't like it. Just because I'm legal now doesn't mean you can invade my personal space.

I had dinner with Chelsea afterwards. Panda Express. She's looking really good. Maybe more grown up? She said she wasn't wearing as much make up. It's a good change.

"What are you gonna do with your life?"

I'm gonna get what I want.

New Year's Resolutions.

I want to lose weight.

I want to be in a show.

I want to improve my singing skill.

I want to save money.

I want to be more responsible.

I want to move on.

Quotes.

"You're such a coward."

"I really like this girl."

You're a secret-bitch."

"Ron tells me that you're a great performer."

"That's sketchy."

"Triple-threat."

"Political agenda."

"Our love is like a retainer."

Best Kept Secret.

I was singing while picking up dirty clothes, and I suddenly started to cry. So something must be wrong with me.

It's turbulent, at best. This transition to adulthood. That's all college is. We're so pampered in high school, that they have to thrust us into the frying pan and expect filet mignon on the first try. A horrible analogy, but I blame Chelsea. She's the Goddess of Horrible Analogies.

I'm more than this guy. I'm a wading pool with a small deep hole in the middle. Careful babies, you might slip in.

Riddle me this: Why do I still miss you so fucking much?

"Beneath the million stars there's no need to pretend.
I want to be with you. I think it's time that we end,
the best kept secret."

"It's best kept secret."

"When did we lose ever after?"

"You can't be the same boy I followed.
Thought I'd always follow.
You've hurt me more than you know.
All that I wanted was you.
You were my tomorrow."

Happy new year! For those of you that don't know, last night was Samhain. Samhain is the Witch's New Year, which makes today the first day of the year. Things are already looking up. This semester has gone by fairly quick, and I should be passing Algebra and Chemistry. Those are the only classes I need to worry about.

A whole year has gone by already.