I am not a fucking whore, nor have I ever been. Sure, I've made some mistakes but who hasn't? I regret all of my mistakes but I fucking live with it. 
Don't text my boyfriend and tell him that I'm cheating on him when I'm not. You're a fucking piece of shit. Don't call me a whore, a slut and a cunt. Mother fucker you don't even know me. You sold 330 dollars worth of MY stuff for your fucking dope head. I fucking hate you. IF YOU EVEN come into town, I swear to GOD I will beat the FUCK out of you myself you stupid fucker. Do you really have to have your mommy call my boyfriend and chew him out when you can't even get the balls to do it yourself? Stop hiding behind dear ol' mom, she can't save your ass forever. You better hope she never lets you out of that house again, or you're fucking DEAD.
HAPPY FUCKING EASTER TO ME...

I don't like feeling sick, to me it feels like hell times ten. But enough about being sick, I wanted to write about something else at first but I'm not so sure I even want to write it anymore.
...I watched "Horton hears a who!" today, I didn't finish it but it wasn't bad.
UGH! I don't even want to write... I have nothing to say, nothing that's worth the time of writing down and no one is going to see this anyway, so what's the use?
Maybe I should just go to bed, stop thinking.
That sounds good, I don't feel well anyway.