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Yesturday is history, Tis so far away. Yesturday is poetry. Tis philosophy. Yesturday is mysery.
Today I couldn't wake up. The second that alarm went off, I slapped it as hard as I could. I was in moral pain. I reluctantly got up, with a smile on my face knowing that today was the second to last day of gym. Next thing I know, my led is screaming with hot pain as a soccer ball slams into me. See, soccer in school isn't a good idea: not the knid of thing I enjoy doing. Atleast when I played with my dad, he didn't chuck it as hard as he could. Lunch was gross. And social studies has us writing poems. We're on the fourth chapter of a book we started two months ago in LA, and our math teacher is screaming her lungs out at thing we couldn't do we learned three years ago.. as in "we" I mean not me, but the stupid class of ignorant people. Noon came, went home, Naruto, lunch, WoW, homework, concert. It was probably the only thing I wanted this day, and got it with a feeling of warmth you get sitting next to the fire with a one you love. And hot cocoa, of course. And now I'm writing, haveing my mother tell me to clean my room. I hope with pride you enjoyed my first entry in my diary.
Waiting, sleeping, remaining ever yours,
Me. Period.