Starcrossedlovers.

Apparently, I'm bipolar.
Yeh, I'm not going to touch that.
You're so fake. You are such a good friend, but you have no idea how to act like a decent person.
But I won't waste time on hypocrites.

I want a journal. A personal one, like Sebastian Valmont's. So I can write all my true, real thoughts down, as soon as they come to me, and I don't have to hold back anything.

I hate my school do much for doing that. They shouldn't be allowed to do things like what they did today at all.
You see? I'm holding back so much. Someone buy me a vintage looking, blank paged journal. No lined paper, blank pages. Pure white. And a journal with lots of pages, not a cheap one.
How I long to write my mind. The way I need to.

I wanna sing to you, at the top of my lungs, the love song that expresses what you mean to me.
And good or bad, I want to sing to you. And I wanna give you a nickname. Iloveyou. Morethanyouknow.