Can't Sleep! D:

Really need to catch up...

So, it's late at night and I'm having a problem with getting sleep lately. Could be the fact I don't have school and I've become lazy... I don't know.

I'm going to whine about how life is not fair, even though it it perfectly fair to me despite that it made my mind a little sociopathic when I was born, which completely screwed up my childhood, and has thus landed me in a state of despair and self-inflicted family issues. Anyway, my Thanksgiving was ruined by my friend leaving at the last minute and not having... whatever it's called... Thanksgiving meal with us. And earlier today (yesterday, actually) my other friend wasn't home for some reason, but she promised she would be available, and I wanted to see that James Bond movie Quantum of Solace (that sounds hawt). And we haven't made pumpkin pie yet, which my mom promised she would do the day before yesterday, and then yesterday.

I keep getting the feeling that people just don't care about me. Not that I really care because I'm a hardened, tough, antisocial individual, but it gets annoying when people just don't keep their word.

Lolz, hipocrisy. I am the master of it.

Well, as I'm pondering in my endless insomnia, I have come to the conclusion that life is pointless. Zomg, someone thought of that before me?! Who knew! You see, I can't help but to think that there is no reason or point to life, except for what people give it. Existentialism, kind of. There is no actual meaning to, like, anything. If I walked up to a random girl and said "Fuck you, bitch" in the plainest tone, she'd probably get pissed. If I did that to a random girl who didn't understand English, she'd probably smile and try to ask what I said. Like that, it only had the meaning people give it. So, I could totally go nuke the whole world, and why would it matter? It wouldn't mean anything because there's no one left to care! There's no fun in that, though. Always leave some survivors to tell the tale. :>

In school my literature teacher has made me read... things... strange things... That's why I'm thinking about this. She is scaring me a bit. My school suddenly thinks I'm a psychopathic, human-hating freak just because I don't randomly talk in class, do drugs, and fuck people all the time...? So, that's my little theory for why my literature teacher is making me read all these stories about crazies. They're probably trying to point out that I'm heading on my way to becoming a Nolan!Jokerette, which my half-wit sister has already mentioned. I find that I'm the only sane person in my whole school. No... I find that I'm the only sane person in the whole universe. If I ever do anything that may seem a little unusual, I always think before doing it. Just to see the effect. It's like the world is my little plaything.

I have a date with my pillow. Good night.