I think they have a lot in common.
They're illegal.
They're taboo.
They're often overlooked.
One's bad for the economy.
One's bad for the planet.
They're both bad for society.
At least, when not done in moderation.
Littering once won't doom the planet.
People need to see past their noses and realize this.

I feel like it's putting me in my place. So I listen to it when I feel conceited or overconfident. It's like reality slapping me in the face. Knocks me down a few notches. That way I'm not as obnoxious for the rest of the day. Of course, it doesn't help so much when I'm feeling down on myself... But it does wonders for me when I'm acting like an arrogant brat. Thus concludes my thoughts on the importance of angry music.

I'd like to change my last name to a number. I hate my last name with a passion. Simply because it's my dad's last name, and I want no part of him associated with me. I've spent a lot of time considering things. There's just not that many last names that I can come up with that are even remotely appealing to me. And most of the ones I like don't sound so hot when paired with my first name. So, how about a number? I'm kind of fond of the number eleven. And it almost rhymes with my first name. For added fun, let's put an exclamation point after it. And just for kicks, let's keep the 'e' lowercase and capitalize the 'v'. My new name shall be Harrison eleVen! Okay, so maybe I'm being silly, but I can dream can't I?

All for you and more

One mistake.
One mistake turns into complete devastation.
I finally understand what it means to think before you speak.
But I shouldn't have to monitor my words.
I should be able to speak freely and not worry.
But I can't do that.
Because my honesty offends people.
I'm sorry I'm so open.
I'm sorry I'm so blunt.
I'll just keep my mouth shut from now on.

"My body's like a foreign country and I don't have a passport"

How true.

And some days it hurts more than others.
Some days I can pretend to be normal.
But sometimes it weighs on my mind.
So hard. So heavy.
And I always ask myself 'what if?'
What if I had been born a boy?
Would I have been happier with my life?
Would I have the same friends that I do now?
Would I have the same personality?
Would it matter?
No.
Because if I had the right body, everything else would have fallen into place.
I would have made friends without ever knowing what could have been.
At least, I tell myself that.
And sometimes that hurts worse.
To think I'd easily throw everything away if in exchange I could just get rid of this feeling.
This feeling of being a stranger to myself.
This feeling of desperation.
Of self-loathing.
I want to love myself.