Good evening pussies

Ho boy you people sure have a lot of problems. I just found this fantastic community called "LJsecrets" because it's everything dramatic and stupid about Livejournal distilled into a series of images with font that's way too hard to read against the image (naturally). While it might be fun to review this community, too, it's way too hard to follow along because I'd have to copy images in and then there's user comments that are equally amusing and no, I'll just find someone who posts here, thanks.
My favorite post on this community, though, has to be "The night you brought home your BFF for a threesome with you and your girlfriend, I didn't just leave because I didn't want to hear it. The idea that you have two people dying to fuck you while I have none was killing me inside."
Ignoring the syntactical and grammatical nightmare these sentences are presumably this is a girl talking to another girl about two guys that want to fuck her. That's my best estimation of this situation, anyway.
Like, what, fucking people occurs in a vacuum? I'm sure you could go out and become the town whore if that was really your goal but it's so much easier and safer to bitch about it on the internet.
Anyway today we have the workings of Flavius Arrianus, better known as Xenophon, historian. I didn't know he was a girl living in the 21st century but apparently.
Oh no excuse me that's just the name of her journal. This is Emma. hi Emma :3
Pretty grandiose to have one of the world's most important historians chronicling your personal blog, huh?

In 9months I will be a nurse.
Kind of crazy no?

No, actually. So what? There are thousands upon thousands of nurses in the world.

I am doing a bit better now, I think the new meds are helping.

Nursing school is going well, and I have lost a ton of weight.

Also take a look at this fucking blog layout. I know it's probably supposed to be both unique and soothing to the viewer but it kind of makes me want to kill. That's what's supposed to happen while browsing Livejournal, right?

I want to peel off this chrysalis and spread blue and silver dusty wings to the sky and fly away,

Oh well let's just ride our chariot of rainbows into friendship.

I am not in a cocoon, I am really just a worm, and unlike caterpillers, worms don't morph into something beautiful, worms just stay worms.

Good you realize it. Now turn the wheel of bureaucracy forever until you die, unmourned and unloved. Peon.

God, life has been so hard lately in so many things- I am just feeling suffocated by things- I want to give everything away and float to neverland on a cloud.

I don't really have any other nonsense phrase regarding this kind of thinking other than "chariot of rainbows into friendship" and I can't really recycle that just yet.

I feel like I am smothered by all this surrounding hate- it is hard to wake up sometimes. Hard to make myself get out of bed.

Oh there's a picture of you. As expected.
Also don't color correct your photos that way. I can tell you're not that tan because your HAIR IS NOW GREEN, DUMMY.

I'm such a jerk, even though I don't mean to be. I don't really know how to deal with pressure, or things that bother me. I'm terrible with words when I am so full of emotion I can cliche'edly burst. :(

So let's sink another drink
'Cause it'll give me time to think
If I had the chance
I'd ask the world to dance
And I'll be dancing with myself

I hate it because it really hurts my feelings to see what people actually think of me, I think that the application should just show your 10 best traits and not the things that people don't vote for you at all.

Oh dancing with myself
Oh dancing with myself
Well there's nothing to lose
And there's nothing to prove
I'll be dancing with myself

Like, I know that I don't really have pretty eyes, or that I am not sexier than most- but come on, no one wants to be stuck in handcuffs with me for a day? That could be fun! Am I that uninteresting?

If I looked all over the world
And there's every type of girl
But your empty eyes
Seem to pass me by
Leave me dancing with myself

Blah, hate that application- though, it did make me feel pretty good to see that I am most intelligent- *puffs up her feathers*

Sorry everyone she's going on and on about nonsense and I just flashed back to the 80s for a full minute.

I'm sitting in my room lamenting the loss of my childhood, in that half-baked cookie kind of way.

In the what kind of way?
Sorry not everyone is as fat as you so food analogies aren't always the best way of expressing yourself here.

I miss the days when being an angsty teenager was okay,

Because you never really moved out of that phase of your life and it just seems silly now?

I am an insecure person and I can't help it.

I CAN'T HELP IT I AM HELPLESS PLEASE PITY ME :(

This is my emo rant.

I am sick and tired of things in my life.

AS OPPOSED TO YOUR OTHER POSTS? WHAT WERE THEY, THEN?
Holy shit strap in motherfuckers, this is post is going to be the ass.

I want to be pretty, I want to be thin, I want to be smart, I want to have a job I like, I want to be.....a useful member of society....

AS YOU WALK ON BY~
WILL YOU WALK AWAY?
COME ON AND CALL MY NAME
COME ON CALL MY NAAAAAAME
WILL YOU CALL MY NAME?
YOOOOW
I SAID LA LA LA

I hate that I don't feel like I am interesting to anyone.

Goddamn this blog goes on and on but the complete works of Billy Idol keep oooon coming, too, so it's okay.

I'm lonely, I realize. I'm lonely because I don't have anyone that I am really close to, and I don't have anyone who wants to be around me in a way that is not 'yeah were buds' you know?

So you might say that you're DANCING WITH YOURSELF?

I understand that I am not the most creative, or pretty, or even friendly outgoing- you know?

Didn't we already talk about this? I get it, you're ugly and unfriendly and not creative and you're a bore, can we please move on?
This is why no one likes you incidentally.

I am really sick of living in this mucky state.

I got a 62% on my first bio test....why?

I got a 97% on my first biology test in college.
Proud moment in college to be sure.

Well, this is what happened- our class average on that test was 43%

Ha, ha, yeah and my test was graded on a curve. OH I'M SORRY DID I FUCK EVERYONE'S AVERAGE UP FOR THIS TEST?
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I understand why people go to war.

Yeah, Ares tells them it's a good idea.
But don't listen to him, guys. He only cares about the slaughter.

I am done with being depressed I think.

Maybe

NOPE.
YOU ARE A BIG FAT LIAR.
I HATE YOU FOR IT.
Anyway I think that's enough because all this blog is is whining about not being pretty/smart/interesting whatever over and over and then Billy Idol songs for some reason.
But come to think of it I think that last part is my addition.

OWNER OF A LONELY HEART

MUCH BETTER THAN A
OWNER OF A BROKEN HEART

It's all out there and I want it back. Now that you know, the pain just digs so much deeper. Is it guilt? Self pity? WHAT?? I don't know what to do.

Come to think of it, I can't believe that song's lyrics have defied this page so long. Remember all those times shit like this has come up and I've said something to the effect of "I feel like I'm missing a really obvious joke"? Well, I think I know what that really obvious joke is now. Yes lyrics, of course.
And they are a joke (burn, Yes)

We're utterly stuck, unable to grant each others wishes. Both in pain, and helpless to change it. *sigh*... what are we going to do?...

Like dust in the wind, dude.
Deeeeeeep.

You're finally feeling what I've been feeling for a year now. I wish I could take away that hurt, because it's killing me to know that it's killing you. You love her... I know that. I have known that. However... "That doesn't mean I don't have feelings for you... but..." Wait... what??... Stop. You can't be serious... "I almost kissed you once you know." No... it's not true. It's not fucking true...

Shiiiiit. What are we talking about, again?

"I don't want to break her heart." he says, "Everyone gets their heart broken..." "But I don't want to be that guy..." You wanna know something?... You don't have to be dating someone to break their heart... you are that guy... whether you realize it or not.

Oh man it reads like the script to FFXIII suddenly.
I WILL PROTECT YOU, SERA
Jesus shit it's like 57 thousand hours in can we please move on?
"COME ON, THEN," says Australia (can't be bothered to remember names), "WE'RE ALL TOGETHER!" (cute laugh noise) OH MY GOOOOD THIS GAME, MAN. THIS FUCKING GAME.
I should have knooooown I was in for some shit when the theme song was sung by LEONA LEWIS. WHO IS THAT? I DON'T KNOW, BUT I DON'T LIKE THE CUT OF HER GIB.
Sorry she's bitching about something (boy trouble, presumably) and I had a meltdown about Final Fantasy.

College. Work. Love. Faith. Friends. It's all a jumbled piece of mixed up garbage that's currently going through the trash compactor of my soul, waiting to be spit out into a nice neat little cube of something managable that I can toss over a fucking cliff.

The world's most tortured metaphor, Jesus Christ.

Of course, I don't really have any enemies either, but you get the point. No one should have to suffer through my psychological nonsense. I mean look at this crap. What am I even saying?

I don't know, that's what I was asking you.
If you don't even know we're in some shit.

All the tiny pieces of her... one by one, they die. And like a hurricane of corpses, the whirlwind created by the lost souls finally settle at the bottom of her being.

Someone just finished reading Dante's Inferno.

There, they sit. They wait. She wonders if anyone will ever pick them up, if not out of pity, then perhaps curiosity, like a child who cradles something in their hand that they do not understand.

...
Sorry I started reading The Inferno.
Just came to my favorite part.
Well not my favorite part, but a good part:

and I began: 'Francesca, your torments
make me weep for grief and pity,
'but tell me, in that season of sweet sighs,
how and by what signs did Love
acquaint you with your hesitant desires?'
And she to me: 'There is no greater sorrow
than to recall our time of joy
in wretchedness --

I was going to quote the part where the people are trapped in the whirlwind but I decided that part was cooler.

Why is it that the only thing I ever get for Christmas is a fucking broken heart. The only fear in life that I have has been confirmed, and I'm utterly useless now... and right before finals. Great.

Ah, it's always the existential questions that undo us.
See I can write epic lines too.
I don't think that's the right meter, come to think of it. Oh well, poetry.

Now all I have to do is sit here and let my wounded heart fester in my stomach. Maybe if I throw up, I can just throw it away and be done with it... damn thing is useless when you're alone anyway...

I don't think your heart is in your stomach. It has admittedly been a while since I've studied anatomy, but I'm almost positive your heart resides somewhere in your chest.

The experience also made me reflect on my own childhood, and I remebered that I would never "play" if there was someone else in the room, unless I was playing with them. If someone entered the room, I immediately stopped what I was doing, sometimes even trying to hide my toys from their eyes. Why? What was I afraid of?

Here's another good part:

Cerberus, fierce and monstrous beast,
barks from three gullets like a dog
over the people underneath that muck.
His eyes are red, his beard a greasy black,
his belly swollen. With his taloned hands
he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.

Oh yeah, this bullshit. Sorry.
Giant worm Cerberus is pretty cool, though.
Now I've read and copied about five lines, read them, reread them and realize I have absolutely nothing to say about it. I'm not sure what to say to you, Sarcasticmuse23 (oi).

I realized something today. I want someone who's dangerous. Not dangerous like, date a serial killer. Dangerous for me, for my well being.

Translation: I want a guy who treats me like shit.
Good work, though. Come to this conclusion all by yourself, did you?

Maybe... spiritually challenging, would be better terminology. Anyway, I mean, I knew that already, but I think I realized why.

Spiritually challenging? Like, what, someone who calls your beliefs stupid?
Because I'd be willing to do that, shit.

Because being with somebody dangerous means there's a chance I'll get hurt. A chance for pain. GOD, why am I so self destructive??

You know what this blog needs (besides to go away)? Some nice, sugary pop music. Some stupid nothing in the background to balance out the MELODRAMA.

What I want most is always something I'll never have. You stupid emotional masochist. Why is "happy" so revolting? Hope so inconceivable?

Hooooo me. Big yawn.
Uhhh--Oh, story time:

"She slumped further into herself, as the weight of her mood drug her down, deeper and deeper, until she was almost drowning in her own thick aura. The utter heaviness of her heart made breathing difficult, and unnecessary. Despair was not with her, but left her lonely in front of her keyboard, begging for words that would not come.

Hold, I must recompose myself.
Wow, I seem to have forgotten how to read after that.

Anyway, basically, I feel like shit. Which is depressing, because I thought this would make me a lot happier. I don't even know who I am anymore.

I always love it when people say shit like that. I DON'T KNOW WHO I AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM! My natural instinct when I hear that is to hit them on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. STOP THAT. BAD.
Well this entry has already dragged on far too long, but with a picture of Godzilla and lines from Dante's Inferno I feel it's sufficiently awesome now.

Oh my God Livejournal come on man

So it looks like Livejournal has redone their front page. It's completely the same upon a cursory scan but one critical button is missing: Journals. It looks like I can no longer browse the life section. Or any section at all for that matter.
I then discovered I could search by category or school, which is fantastic if you want to read the philosophical ramblings of a 14 year old made five years ago (no thanks). I'm fairly certain this feature has always existed but had previously been locked out to people not registered (oh hi me). I debated registering to see if they had just switched browse and search, but the fantastic Livejournal registration system wouldn't allow me an account, so who the fuck knows?
Of course the "Shop" button is still healthy and intact, so fantastic. Wouldn't want to do anything to that, would you, you cunts? Fuck blogging.
Fortunately Deadjournal, that oft-neglected emo sister to Livejournal, stands intact and ready to please.
If that sounded Freudian that was the idea. Anyway, here we go: Papyrus of Ani.

As of late, I feel like i'm here for no reason. Like I don't matter to anyone, except Raiden.

... The god of lightning?
He's basically Zeus but in Japan. Also not the lead god because their lead god is a girl (kind of an unusual feature in mythology, that). Although I think you can make a strong argument for the central figure in Greek mythology being Athena and not Zeus, even though Zeus is in charge of the whole operation.

And the only reason I matter to him is because I feed him and change him.

I don't think Raiden (or Raijin if you're not American. And fat) would need fed or changed. I bet he can take care of himself pretty handily, in fact.

And while I know he'd miss me if I was gone.

Were* gone. I don't know why I bother with something that freakishly subtle when 99% of the internet doesn't know the difference between your and you're, but it bothered me.

He'd eventually just stop missing me and because he's so young, maybe even forget about me.

You named your kid Raiden?
What the fuck is the matter with you?

I wish my cramps were worse. Right now, i'm thinking I deserve it. I can't believe how fucking stupid I am.

I can't believe you named your fucking kid Raiden. What's wrong with Roger?

Not a single day has gone by that I haven't cried. While i've already kind of realized things have gone back to normal, I don't want to admit it.

This is why I don't visit Deadjournal very often. All of the blogs (and I do mean all of them) are written in this incredibly cryptic language. I know Livejournal often does that but at least on Livejournal it's book ended by Bible quotes or Naruto quotes (or both for some reason) so you can at least get a vague impression of what's going on.
Not so on Deadjournal, so you're left with two contradictory thoughts of wanting to know what's happening but not giving a shit at the same time.

I want to remember how beautiful and loved he makes me feel.

Hurr durr I'm a hurr.

Every time I think about how beautiful things were just a week ago and how they are now. I break down and cry.

That was then, this is now, focus not on the past or the future but on the ever-present now, etc etc

I need even more love and support than before he left. Where am I supposed to turn? I'm going from day to day feeling like i'm barely surviving this pain.

Ha, ha okay, Linkin Park. Excuse me, I have some new Pokemon games to play.

With this much pain and what sometimes feels like noone to share it with,

Why is it people always want to share shit with Peter Noone? Is he some sort of sage and I didn't know? (Lead singer for Herman's Hermits [ask your grandmother]).

I think part of the problem is I still haven't come to terms with everything. In my mind I go to sleep thinking that maybe tomorrow all our problems will be solved and we'll at least have a plan.

People think too much when they go to sleep, Jesus Christ.
Now there are ten thousand words that I'm not reading. I'm suddenly reminded I have to finish The Morgesons this weekend, though.
Oh all right, I'll make an effort to read this.

As soon as we got back to the hotel room and just put down our luggage and focused on eachother, it was the most beautiful, natural loving thing in the world.

Kind of sorry I started reading this now, good grief.

I sat on the couch and he just started kissing me, I returned all this and, of course, the kissing led to making out and touching.

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-- gross, fat girl vag.

Making love to him was perfect. Feeling totally at ease and in love. Being so in sync and looking eachother in the eyes while saying how much you love eachother.

Each other is two words. I'm sure Peter Noone would tell you this.

Every time we made love it was a physical and a spiritual thing.

Ah, I know what you mean. One time I had a ball of wax in my ear that I swear must have been the size of my fist that I finally got out.
It was almost a moral victory, that's how good it felt.

I usually feel really cuddly and lovey at this time. And in a way, I do. I'm just afraid if I think too much about it that it will just make me sad. There has been no doubts this last month or so that the 25th of January was when Jav was supposed to be out here.

I think Jav is her husband and he's either dead (based off her posts it's really hard to tell) or he's away, possibly in a war somewhere?

10:09pm

I don't feel loved. I don't feel wanted. Since Sat nothing has gotten better. I play by myself just to feel something.

Fat girl touching herself.
I can see myself turning into that stereotypical starved for attention wife that will get it wherever she can.

I WANT TO FUCKING FEEL SOMETHING

So you say you want to feel something because you can't, longing being an emotion you supposedly can't feel.
Wow. That just blew my mind, man.

I just want this fucking feeling to go away..

But I thought YOU JUST WANTED TO FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL SOOOOOOOOOMETHING :(

I'm proud of myself for not writing during my emo phase.

Excuse me? You didn't write during your emo phase? Doesn't that imply what you're writing right now is somehow not emo, or worse, that you can somehow be more emo than this?
I'm trying to imagine you even whinier than you are now, and quite frankly it's difficult to comprehend.In fact I'm left with only one thing left to say:Also I hope Livejournal gets its shit together Friday.

Idort

I had two choices today. One for shitty poetry and the other for spelling coughing with a P. In the end, shitty poetry always wins.
You're lucky, girl who spells coughing with a p.
So here we are today.
Poetry, like all fiction, is usually dialectic in nature. That is, it's from someone to someone. Good fiction (anything not poetry) is usually from the author to the audience. Simple and direct. Poetry, on the other hand, can be from anyone to goddamn near anyone. Usually, the vast majority of the people reading it are not the intended audience.
So here we have the first stanza:

These words I write are damaging,
The hurt I can't reveal,
I can't let anybody in,
So this raging agony I conceal.

Why?

I could say that I've been broken,
But it's beyond what I can comprehend,
I've been trying for so long,
But this heart is too shattered to mend.

How so?

I'm tired of feeling hurt,
And I can't stand the pain,
Every morning that I wake up,
Is just another breath I take in vein.

Presumably she means "vain" and not the part of the nervous system.
And it goes on and on like this, and while this is a bad example of poetry it does basically summarize all poetry (except epic poetry).
So I'm going to do something unprecedented (for me) and skip all poetry because fuck it it's all the same.

I am so sick of fake people. Sick of people acting and saying one thing and then do the complete opposite.

Couldn't that be people being honest and genuine, though? They meant to do one thing but then it came down to it and they decided to do the other? Wouldn't that be staying true to their actual nature, instead of conforming to how you see them?

im tired of people telling me what i do is wrong when they have no idea the shit i have been through.

What shit have you been through, Hot Topic shopper?

All i want is for someone to show me that they are different.

I'd wager I'm different from anyone you've ever met by virtue that I'd say all of this to your face, but I bet you couldn't handle that.

but soon i will find my release, my sweet release to see the blood flowing from my veins.

A CUTTER HOLY SHIT.
I really need to make that checklist.

if they all think that its ok to just walk away why cant i just make one final cut and leave them all behind to find my freedom at last.

Whoa there, crazy font. Also you're not going to kill yourself. Don't be so dramatic. You're far, far too whiny and too much of a show off to do anything that takes a set.

What do you do when the tears finally stop falling. And everything you feel is numb.

Listening to Pink Floyd now.

Where do you find the strength that you need.

Ha, ha what? Is that a question? I can't tell because there's no question mark. Assuming it is, I'm not sure. Stop asking stupid questions and you'll stop seeking stupid answers.

My life is slowly falling into darkness how do i escape?

Cool font, brah. Noticing a repetition of themes, by the way?
Also what's so tough in her life that warrants all this? Her job is tough.
Dead. Fucking. Serious.

My job is pissing me off by making me work at there other store when i dont want to and if i dont keep my hours at 60 my pay check gets cut.

Holy shit going blind goddamn.

I wonder if the life im living has a purpose.

Nope. Most people just make it up as they go along.

I try and tell him why im upset with him and he just turns it all around on me and it turns out that im the one in the wrong.

I'm not sure what Patrick is like but I'm guessing it is mostly your fault. Look at you.

And if he can handle me having to be in the hospital for a time.

Ha, ha Looney Tunes is going to the mental home.

there isnt a single person who knows everything about me. i have to many horrifing secrets.

Ah, ha, ha, ha what the fuck is that? What kind of "horrifing" secrets do you have?
PATRICK I'M-- I'M-- HITLER!
What a tweeeeeeeeeest.

No one understands it. and if i reveal that my wings have fallen once again i will lose everyone i love.

Holy shit that's her horrifying secret. She has wings. Call the inquisition and the space marines there's a mutant afoot. There may be more, better have some Grey Knight Purgation squads in reserve.
PURGE THEM WITH SWORD AND FIRE!

everyone thinks it is easy being me. but its not.

Aww poor baby. So hard living a privileged, middle class existence, isn't it?
As for me, it's easy being me. Being me kicks ass.

who is there that i can confide in. i want to hide away. away from everyones expectations. everyones needs.

Confide in me. Nothing escapes my sight.

i feel like two different people. one that i let everyone see. and then the one that hides away in the darkness. she doesnt eat, she cuts herself, she does bad drugs on occation.

Both have atrocious spelling and grammar, though. Also I know about both of you because, after all, both are all over the internet for any stranger to read.
Your "hiding in darkness" self isn't exactly Superman to Clark Kent, is it? A Superman that everyone knows about, maybe.

when i finally fall to my grave who will be there at my grave and who will be to busy to waste thier day.

Whoa-ho, easy, there, Grammaticus.

Is there anyone that is truely true or is everyone just so fake?

"Truely" true, as opposed to falsely true, or only sometimes true?

In other news my mom is getting married March 29th An she had the nerve to ask me to be in her wedding!! It blew my mind!! How can she expect me to be in it when i dont approve of it.

I guess your mom expected her daughter to be less of a spoiled brat and be there for her mother instead of thinking (as usual) only about herself?
Or, no, I know what she's thinking. She's thinking: "I have raised such a cunt of a daughter." That's what she's thinking.
No I'm just joking. Your mom sounds like a cunt too. I'm sure that is where you got this from, in fact.
That's it. That is her entire blog.
Welp I would say I had fun with that, but--
I didn't. That was a shitty blog and she should feel bad for it.
So shitty, in fact, that I'm left with nothing else to say.
So in other news, here's a blog that doesn't suck.

The Church of Truth Without Christ

Sorry I forgot to update Friday. Totally slipped my mind, and by the time I remembered it was Sunday.
So double updates today, I suppose. That should make up for the indiscretion. Today's first specimen is The Church of Truth Without Christ (good grief). The first thing immediately noticeable is the length of the posts. Hardly any over a paragraph. Points for that. Oh, and it's located here: http://grima.deadjournal.com/
So after skipping through some posts I don't care about (Dark Knight was good, was it?) I come to this:
weird!

i had another strange dream, 'acourse.
i was in a mall supposedly at some 'goth" event with voltaire, and i was scrambling to get my clothes/outfit together-i had some success, but i couldn't find my hat. somehow along my travels, i found a consignment/antiques store, and in it was my hat. when i tried to get it back, the old woman who ran it made me pay her 5 bucks, but she gave me an aventurine hatpin wich se told me was cursed...and that somehow i could have it because i was immune or something. as i was leaving, i saw a teeny owl, which was lost inside the shop, and i picked it up and took it home.
woke up at 5:01 pm today, and still feel kinda _bleh_

What. Voltaire? The philosopher? I have to assume no because this does, after all, involve goths. Probably something my normal mind cannot be privy too, lest I make fun of them and hurt their feelings.
WOKE UP AT 5:01? I thought I should feel like shit for waking up at 12:30 today. I guess that lends to the whole "I'M A VAMPIRE" aspect of goth subculture.
Moving on to July 1, 2008. This was the deciding entry. Before I wasn't convinced this was worthy of my attention, but this did it.

so i went today for an interview with this environmental job. it's door to door, from 2-10:30 5 days a week. i know it's a lot of hours, but it's $375/wk. however, i've been super sick, and i called and said i'd need an alternate date. i figure this is reasonable, since being super sick and tired with a screaming headache for 8 hours will make for an *awesome day*. so i tell my dad that i might want to stop at my friend's gallery opening (from 4-6) and he says that since i can't go to the observation day, i can't go do this. WTF? it's not like i'm playing hookie, and popping into an art glallery opening is a lot different than pounding pavement from 4-9 in the heat.
goddammit. and my mono spot came out negative. so i guess i get to stay sick.

This sounds like the exact same paradigm I'd try to set up with my mom in middle school: no mom, I am sick, but I'm well enough to play Sonic Adventure. On my new Dreamcast. And that's totally why I don't want to stay home. It's really because I'm sick. Really.
But he seems like a big boy now. Getting a job in a lab, no less. Isn't it time to, oh, I don't know, grow the fuck up and either tough it out or stay at home in bed? Apparently he isn't "super sick". I remember the one and only time I was "super" sick, and the only thing I wanted to do was die.
June 25, 2008:

i think i might have mono- i'm going to the doctor's tomorrow, so hopefully that doesn't fuck up my going to see sophia this weekend :( i'm just soo worn out and painful, and i magically got a sore throat this morning. FECK.
hopefully he can tell me wtf to do about this pinched nerve though, it's driving me insane.

A pinched nerve too? My goodness, you are just a hotbed of suffering and misery. I like your girlfriend's (?) name, though. Don't hear many people named Sophia anymore. Sore throat is a symptom of mono, though. It wasn't magic (although you might be inclined to believe so).
This medical nonsense continues into June 19, 2008:

well for starts, i feel like shit. vertigo and shit. dizzy, confused, shitty. from meds withdrawal. the pinched nerve is still there too.
but what's more, FIT apparently will only take 15 of my fucking credits, so i'm basically starting school all over again, and 2 whole years of my life-2 of the worst-have been completely fucking wasted.
i don't know how i could be more miserable...oh wait, my mother and her cunt buddy are here. JOY.

I think the problem here is that he's a hypochondriac. While feeling shitty, dizzy and having a sore throat are symptoms of mononucleosis, vertigo isn't. Vertigo is rarely the sign of any medical condition unless it's a serious parasite. Of the brain. Since I have to assume he wasn't drinking the water from the Nile, I doubt it's that.
Also welcome to college. That's what they do. At least they didn't Mickey Mouse half your credits around so you got to keep them all but simultaneously didn't count for anything you needed. You seem to be under the false assumption that they exist to educate you. Colleges, like any business, are there to make money. They make money by selling the product of education. Took me a year to learn that lesson at a big university.
Skipping another entry about dreams. He seems to dream every day and remember them, which makes me think he's lying.

i've been suuper lax. but then again, nothing has been going on. LITERALLY.
i've been SOOOOOO bored. it's just been hot and icky and everyone is busy. that and i ran out of guanficine, so i'm a very sore nerve tic machine right now.
had a dream from my nap that involved a tranny convention (wtf?), meeting bruce dickinson and giving him a big hug, swimming in a river, a barn owl and lions, and the entire town shop carpeted with astroturf.

Guanfacine? Isn't that used to treat post-traumatic stress disorder and hypertension? Why would you be on that? Also that might explain the vivid dreaming. I don't think that's a symptom but since it also reduces nightmares and flashbacks it would make sense I suppose.
This continues for essentially the duration of the blog, but one post in particular caught my attention:

so my finals are FINALLY done... i got a c on austin's project, which sucked b/c i put so much work into it, but it could have used some work blah blah oh and i wish i hadn't FAINTED in front of austin, that fucking sucked. how embarassing! O.O
jesus, stress + sick+insomnia+nofood=SUCK.

FAINTED? Again with the sick. What you need, and I really want you to look into this, is lithium. This hypochondria, vertigo and fainting nonsense strikes me as a manic episode. There may be some heavy metal toxicity to worry about but otherwise I think you'll see an overall increase in your quality of life. I know this is the second time I've perscribed a major mood altering drug to someone but I can't really work through years and years of apparent trauma with just a blog post, so hardcore drugs will have to suffice.
Also I'm not really qualified to do either of those things. I just read medicine like they did in the old days. Back when the barber was also the dentist, doctor, vet and surgeon simply by virtue that he owned a pair of scissors?
Those were good times.
Towards the bottom of the post he bitches that he can barely walk because his blood sugar is so low. When was the last time you ate? Last week?
So in conclusion, to not be like this jibbering twat:
Don't be an old woman
Man the fuck up
I remember one time, trying to find one of these things I came across one where the guy said "broke my arm, no big deal." That's how all blogs should be.