T H E S U C K M A T T E R S

To the untrained eye, it may seem as though I'm no longer angry over the terrible friend scandal. I am. Mostly because I'm starting to realize people suck, and so do friends. Unless your friends are imaginary. (Which a lot of mine are.) I'm a writer. I don't need real people. I really don't. So if you want to make me hate you, realize that it doesn't matter. I'll replace you. And let you om nom bobombs all day long. Losers.

Also, "I'm sorry" does nothing for me. Make a stupid decision. Apologize. Cool, you're aware you messed up. You still did. You still ruined that trust. I'm still going to feel how that affected me.

I got a tattoo today! The one I've wanted for a really long time.

My Aunt Dawn was my dad's middle sister. She died six years ago from cancer. At that time my favorite verse was Romans 8:28 and after she died I found out it was hers too: "All things work out for good." When she died, I felt that verse. I agreed with it. It means a lot to me. We had it written on her headstone.

If I wrote the bible, Romans 8:28 would say: "life isn't cool all the time, but it makes sense in the long run. Even the sucky things matter, and we'll always be okay."

It means more to me than most people. Because, as I have said. People are fickle. People are dumb. Words don't lie. They can't. Unless they're homonyms, but that's just sneaky of them.