1:36 PM. I should be in New Orleans right now. I would be in New Orleans right now. I planned on coming down this weekend, as of last night, but then came to the realization that nobody wants me home. Kind of dissapointing.

I hate when someone has a fucking problem with me and feels the need to not tell me, forces ME to make the effort. I don't get what is so difficult about telling me the truth. I'M SORRY IF THAT'S TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE. I hate that I'm in this position and that I don't know what the fuck to do. A big part of me never wants to talk to anyone from home again. This week has BEYOND proven my point about people only caring when they "have" to. However, the other part of me thinks it would be sooooo not me to just fucking lose everyone by choice. But then again, I almost feel like I should lose everyone by choice. I'm worried that this is the part where I say that the good doesn't outweigh the bad. I'm worried that if I do say "Fuck everyone" that I will be losing what I love. But I'm just as fucking worried that if I don't say it, it will happen over and over.

"People fuck up. It happens." My response was, "Yeah, it just seems to be happening all the time and no one cares about it." I'm allowed to be sad. I'm allowed to be angry. I'm allowed to want to punch all of you in fucking face. I'm not over it...any of it. And no one cares. Half of you don't even fucking know that I'm still upset because once you find out I'm alive, you stop caring. You don't call. You don't do anything to talk to me. Nothing. It's a struggle to say the least. I feel like everyone forgot about me. Forgot. That's strong. That's accurate. Everyone forgot that we were best friends. Everyone forgot that I loved them. I'm not missed. I get it. It just sucks to wish that your "best friends" missed you one tenth of how much you miss them.

xoxo DannDann