4/3/2017

For the past few months, I haven’t really been able not to hate Hailey. Sometimes, she’s ok, but usually I can’t stand her. Anything about her. Today (since we are talking about today, because this is a bloody diary) she walked into school with her freshly colored hair. It was pastel orange, turning pink toward the ends. She looked at everyone so snootily, as she always does. As a matter of fact, she looked at them so snootily, that she didn’t even look at them. One of the things I hate most about her is that she smokes all the time. Every fucking hour she goes outside to smoke one of her hand-rolled cigarettes. She stinks of smoke. Her fingers, her mouth, clothes, hair. What drives me most crazy is her breath. It always smells like some kind of fucking soup mixed with smoke. She burps all the time. She drinks a lot. She’s a scrutin. Yet, every fucking guy loves her. Every month or so she gets some new bloke who fools around with her, or whatever, and then, when I ask her if she likes him, she just says, “No, we’re just friends.” Of course. She could never like anyone. God for-fucking-bid! If she had feelings for a guy, she’d look vulnerable in her own eyes. And just deciding to hate or feel utter apathy towards everyone in your life just so you don’t get hurt is goddamn cowardice.

While I was walking home from French class, listening to Another One Bites the Dust, I saw this woman wearing all white clothes and golf-green trousers. It looked bold and good. I like golf-green.

At 8:30 I showed up at this girl’s house. She had invited me to come pick her up so we could go for a run. I did and she asked me to take a picture of her in her new £70 Adidas trainers. Then she went to change and told me to send her the pictures so she could put them on her story.

We also took a Maths test today. I’m 90% that I failed it.

I’ve got 90+ more pages of Voltaire’s Candide left to read for literature class until tomorrow.

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