This blog is gonna end up being weird and confusing. I mean, it is my blog. As my first blog thing, I guess I'm just gonna introduce myself, actually, I'll introduce Fabio, talk about blogs not yet written, tell you about my day, and write way too much. I always write too much.
Yup
Anyway, so, Fabio is my alter-ego. He's technically Italian, but after his mom died, you know, he sorta became americanized. He's pretty normal(when he's not having a panic attack for some reason), unlike me. I'm trying to make him get on here and introduce himself, but he's having a panic attack. He's claustrophobic and apparently "there're too many people in this room and the noise is overwhelming." Yeah, that's what he said. I guess, actually, he's pretty messed up. He had a hard childhood. Maybe one day he'll tell you, or allow me to tell it. I guess I don't have too much to say about Fabio at the moment. Mostly because I want him to introduce himself. Wait... He says, and I quote, "I don't wanna introduce myself yet. Still trying to figure out who I am, and what my place is in this world. Now let me have my panic attack in peace." At least, I thing thats what he said... he's in the midst of hyperventilating. He gets quite annoying at times... I'm trying to work with him about his claustrophobia. Maybe he'll be able to come to school one day. Wait... He says, "Fat chance." Oh Fabio...
What the fuck?! I just placed my hand in a puddle of blood... There's blood pooling from a tiny pinprick in my thigh... What? Uggg... I'll deal with it later...
Changing the subject from my bleeding leg and Fabio, later blogs are gonna be all over the place, I felt the need to warn anybody who decides to take a look at my boring life. Oooo! Slipknot! Sorry, forgot I had this song on my playlist thing. (This song, if you're wondering--> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gOVd2GsYfoA&feature=autoplay&list=FLqbjKhBysfey_JrqerGdeJQ&playnext=3) Fudge, got leg blood on my arm... off track, sorry. Yeah, but some blogs are gonna be me spazzing, blowing off steam, telling you about my day in monotone, Fabio saying stuffs, me talking about awesome books, or songs, or other shizz, maybe a shout-out to a good friend, or me dissing a fag, and every once in awhile, me being so insightful its disgusting. I guess thats all you need to know about these blogs, other than I'm going to write more than needed, and the blogs will come at weird intervals. Yeah.
Since I've already written too much, I guess I'll continue with my day. Woke up around... I forget, between ten and noon, immediately got pissed at my sister, who, even after being told, screamed at about, and smacked upside the head over, ate my last fucking Toaster Scrambles, which happened to be the only thing I could eat until my mom gets up and unlocks, or refuses to unlock, the pantry. Yes, the pantry at my house is locked. Suckish, huh? I need a lock picking kit or something. So anyway, my mom gets up at one, which gives me an hour to find something healthy to eat. Why an hour? Well, I have track Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes Sundays. The only reason I do track is to keep in shape for soccer. Anyway, I have a small panic/spazz attack thing because 1.) All I want is Flaming Hot Cheetos and spicy chicken, which we don't have, and 2.) because by that time I have half an hour to find something to eat that will keep me energized at track, and I have to eat it within the next half hour because if I eat any later, it doesn't settle right in my stomach before track, which makes for a slow, sick-feeling Rianna at track. Anyway, I finally settle on forcing some toast with peanut butter down my throat(I wasn't hungry), and while I do that, my mother decides to confirm which school track practice was being held. So she does that. And guess what. Track was cancelled. And not for something rational, like a t-storm, but because of the fucking heat. I ran a mile in 105 degree weather on Sunday, and they decide to cancel it when its only like 90 something?! I was pretty mad. Now I'm just bored, and trying to decide between continuing on in my stories or writing/finishing poems, trying (and probably failing) to draw, or reading, all while head-banging to my music. One of my favorite BVB songs is on, and in the version I'm more fond of (this song--> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz2_iGZz6es&feature=autoplay&list=FLqbjKhBysfey_JrqerGdeJQ&playnext=6) Why do I consent to putting links to songs I mention? I don't even know if this will work, being as this is my first blog. Ever. I congratulate you if you managed to read this all the way through, hopefully my next blog will be more entertaining or riveting. Well, hasta-la-pasta. (this should be Italy's [from Hetalia] good-bye statement, lol)
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