i'm reading 'brave new world' for english. that should be my cue to moan and groan about how much i identify with bernard marx, and how he and i are going through the exact same thing, about how i'm so alone, and no one understands, and i'm a misfit, and i think differently than ALL OF THEM, GOSH, but i won't do that to anyone. especially because i despise bernard marx. mainly because i despise bernard marx. i'm on chapter thirteen. the worst part is, i'm going to have to write an essay on this at the end of the year. moments before summer elation, completely dashed by fucking bernard marx.i have angst. (but really i'm too young to have angst, i'm actually in a really good mood right now! i think i'll go watch amelie and then draw raspberries and zorro girls all night. bye!)
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