1969

I was over at a friend's house and found a yearbook that belonged to my cousin, who died in 1994 from an overdose. She would've been in my mom's class, but she failed a grade. One of the people who signed her yearbook killed himself a few years ago. Another one is strung out--someone I used to hang out with. It's strange reading through the comments. I like looking at the pictures, too. Time traveling to 1969 would be cool.

On a side note, I need something to do with my time. I'm so bored with life.

I was going to let some people on Reddit have access to my journal, for whatever reason, but I changed my mind. The only reason I let Kate have access to it is so that maybe if I die there will be a record of my thoughts, however fucked up they may be.

Speaking of Kate, I helped her mom on the phone today with her computer. She invited me to come stay in Pennsylvania if she can get her son and his girlfriend to leave. That would be cool. And it'd be much easier than time traveling.

I miss my shittie guitar. I sold it to Dusty for $20 because his other one is in the pawn shop. I got to play it a little bit today, though. It sounds so much better than the Keith Urban one my parents got me for Christmas. But I am still happy I have it.

I should write a song.

I'm going to do that now.