I'm Raviolli

I know what I want. Too bad all I can find are waffles, which can't suit my needs. They have compartments and just don't understand how everything goes together. I wish I could find a fucking pancake. Just one damn pancake in this sea of waffles.

He's just like you. He calls me. He tells me he loves all my pictures and that I'm beautiful. Then he goes and calls up every other girl when he's lonely and just fucking ugh. I'm not the only one he's calling baby by a long shot. This fucking insanity. I don't understand it.

I dunno how it happened, but I guess I actually do like him. I'm getting jealous. It's horrible. I always lose at my own damn game. All these nerds who sit on their asses playing games all day sure know how to do it when it comes to girls. I'm gonna get into some game really bad so that I can fuck around with guys and play them really good. If only I were a waffle myself. Too bad I'm raviolli. I have all my seperated compartments until the sauce gets poured out on top. Then all my little compartments are joined together.

:) Ugh. And yet he still makes me smile whenever I think about him. dsjklfkjdjddsghdsjkf  ahdssdh hddhdsjh. That is my spazzy little way of saying, "Fuck my life."

Oh gawd. I really do like a black guy. :3 Heeheehee. I like it. Fuck. No. He's a player. Smh. Fuck. He says that all the time. He's getting to me. Oh, Jessica, why can't I follow the advice I tried to give you?

I wanna drink. I wanna smoke. I wanna forget to care. Too damn bad I quit.