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People seem to say that alot when you really don't want to talk to them. It's always the same questions, "What's wrong? Did I do something? Are you on the rag.... okay disregard that last one." But why is it when people you think you love and trust go behind my back, then ask the same annoying question, "What's wrong?"

If i could play this day over in my head again would, but the mental damage vaguely stays in place. So of what i have left of this disasterous day is about to escape my mind onto this gaia page. To protect the honor and somewhat respect i have left for these people all names have been changed.Enjoy stare .

It was like any other typical day in the 7th grade (note: this was like two years ago), i was alone sitting at the back of the class watching everyone as they enjoyed what friendship seem like to me. I sat there staring, wanting something like a friendship, but i think it was more of a compassion understanding level that i needed. I was the reject, the wierdo, the creepy, ugly emo that didn't know the latest rap song, or wore the tight booty jeans that every girl wore. I was picked on for assessts that everybody thought i didn't deserve. I was a 36D back in like fifth grade, so every girl insisted that i stuffed my bra. Random guys would grab my breast and say that their girlfriend needed them, not me.
I was okay with it as long as noone forced me down and do embarassing s**t. I was so used to it that when they did this i would laugh, and not care. That was until he stepped in. He was the new kid and everyone knew him for his smoltering good looks for a white kid. We're going to call him Justin.
-More soon this Gaia page is ******** up!!!