Porno in the Lab

There's this cute girl sitting behind me. I realize she's seeing my browsing but, I wonder what would happen if I start watching porno. I want to see her rxn. oh god, look at that... rxn. Reaction.

That's how far the influence of chemistry has on me. Having RXN be a supplement for an actual word. I'm still sitting in this lab, I have no idea what I'm doing. How the fuck am I supposed to write a research paper on some bullshit I barely understand. Oh well, those are the breaks I guess. But seriously WTF.

All I can say is that the girl from fucking Big 8... not my type. Sure, she's there, and willing. But I'm not. She's nice, but seriously, who wears "piglet" shit after 8th grade? WHO!?

I'm getting frustrated with all of that bs. I need to vent. I need to vent, but more structured. Structure that I can get by... getting.... really.... high...
But, I've decided to be straight edge.

What ever happend to Paul Wall? I guess he spend all of his money on the grill.

Seriously now. There is this huge weight that is sitting in the back of my mind. It's her. I have to talk to her. I have to tell her everything I've realized, everything that I've seen, everything I've changed, and I want to know everything she's thinking. Because for long, she was my everything and I blew my shot.

Those are the breaks I guess. This is me thinking on paper.

Panic at the Disco - FTW... I hate myself for that. LOL

And that's okay, I feel the same.
Feeling lonely and stressed.
Lonely because it is my shit.
My shit is mine to bear.
Bearing the wounds and waiting to show the scars.
The wounds that won't heal, will definately scar, and always take effect.
They've changed me, for the better.
Changed me, for the better. I guarantee it...

(just a little bit longer.)