Last night

sheeeeeeeeeeeee said, oh baby I feel so down.

What happened to the good ol' saturday nights?
"so.. what do you do n' shit?"
charming, because that makes me want to talk to you now. Original and modernised.
"I sell wine. Well I drink wine. So that's basically the same"
Really? I was under the impression that selling something and drinking it was completely different but hey, what would I know?
For those playing at home, that was our male interaction at the rochester,
this is what has become of our saturday nights:
"I would do both of you." - at the same time!?
few hours later, different guy:
"If only you were blonde I would do you."
Oh, if only.
I actually don't know what it takes to have a decent night out anymore.
I would like to say friday was better, but unfortunately the peninsula is hung up on being scene.
And I hate going out and feeling/looking pretentious because I don't want to talk to anyone,
but if every conversation I have involves people telling me I could be a stripper or having to explain french to people then I'd rather just sit in the corner listening to music and soaking up everyone else's atmosphere.
Am I sounding like a complete dick right now? Well good.

Sweet Leaf - Alexisonfire & this story from picaresque #9 - Brendan rocks.

65.
Matthew Werry wasn't a particularly well-liked member of his year level, so he decided to kill himself.
He climbed up on the roof of stawell Secondary's Gold Reef campus, and was
preparing to jump. A few of us had gathered around at this point.
We waited a while. He didn't seem to be doing anything.
Someone from the crown began to offer their encouragement. Someone else joined in. Pretty soon the whole bunch of us were telling him to jump. Bear in mind this was a small country town, not New York, and suicide was an incomprehensible concept that only occurred somewhere else. I reckon, though, that at this point he knew exactly what to do. "Screw you guys", he must've thought, "I'm not going to fucking do anything you fucking tell me." He gave us all the finger and I climbed down. We can all learn something from Matthew Werry, I reckon. When all hope seems lost, when all of your friends have turned into fuckwits and any dream you ever had of actually enganging in reciprocal contact with the opposite sex dissipated into the air between you and the concrete, you will always have spite. And what better reason could you have to go on living.

Bella.xx