Fucking vending machine ate my dollar.

I started taking Animal Pak, these multi-vitamins, and I can taste all the vitamins when I burp. I need something in my stomach.

I took James to the Las Olas park meeting. He got high on Friday, he’s been banging pills and heroin. That’s how he got caught — it’s pretty obvious when you’re wearing sweaters in 90-degree weather. I’m not really jealous of people who get high anymore. I feel bad for him. I wanna help him. 

If he went to meetings, got a sponsor, worked steps and did service then he’d stay clean. He was telling me how he hates life and he wished he was back in high school. That’s so weird to me. Then again, I can remember when I hated life and wished I was back in MIDDLE school. It’s crazy how middle school was like my high school — all the parties, tons of fun, smoking weed every day, doing coke on the weekends, taking girls’ virginities, listening to Taking Back Sunday and Death Cab for Cutie.

March 3rd, 2009

Today was nice.

I fucked Sam in the school parking lot. It was better than I thought, normally I hate fucking in cars. She was wearing this weird hippie blue dress. It was a gorgeous day out. We walked to the parking lot. I parked all the way in the back and some kids were standing by my car. I went up to them, pulled one to the side and said, “Yo, I’m trying to fuck this bitch, can you guys move this shit somewhere else?” They were cool about it, I can tell Sam had no idea what I told them. We get into the back seat and we start making out. I pull my dick out and she gives me head while I reach behind her ass and slide her panties to the side. I love how her pussy gets wet before I even touch it. I finger her pussy, sucking my fingers after a few thrusts and putting them back in. She takes her panties off and rides me for a little, then I get on top of her and fuck her. She starts sucking my dick again and I cum in her mouth while I pull her tits out and squeeze them. Her pussy has no scent. I love her sweet little teenage pussy. When I got to class I was thinking about rubbing my pussy glazed fingers on this kid Rob’s face, but then thought against it and settled for a high five.

Hahaha, no one else in class likes Rob. I sort of feel bad sometimes. I’m always telling him to shut up.

I like Sam, but I’m never really myself around her. I’m never really myself around a lot of people. I just fuck around and say weird shit and dance around all the serious issues.

I treat Britney with more respect and I feel like I can let my guard down around her and we have serious conversations. I like Britney a lot. Even though we don’t hang out a lot and I only fuck her when she comes over drunk, it’s still nice.

You know, even though I’m a piece of shit, I think if I had a girlfriend I would treat her pretty good... you know, beyond eating her pussy in the morning.

Danny is just coming back. He said something that hit me. He said, “Even when I hang out with social drinkers, I still gravitate to the hard drugs. There could be 200 people at a party and one addict in the bathroom doing coke and BAM, I end up right fucking there, doing coke in the bathroom, snorting pills in someone’s car. it doesn’t matter how it starts, but that’s how it always ends.” 

Danny said that even with three years clean, he never worked the steps. It’s weird how when I see people stay clean that long, I just assume they’ve worked all 12 steps. I have to finish my fourth step, it’s ridiculous that I’ve been clean this long and I’m not done with it. I keep saying, “Oh yeah, I’m taking my time.” Bullshit. I’m being lazy and I don’t want to do it. I could be doing a little bit every night. 

In Algebra 2, I don’t do shit. I’m putting 60% of my ability into my school work and wonder why I get Ds. I put all this work into staying clean, but making a meeting ain’t much work. Steps are where the work is, service — a little work, calling my sponsor — fucking cake. 

The steps are really the only hard part, and what doesn’t come easy doesn’t go easy. I’m still such a slacker in school. If only I could apply this to all areas of my life, then I’d be feeling a lot better…

FUCK. FUCK.

FUCK. FUCKING, FUCK.

I FUCKING HATE ALGEBRA 2.