...can't stand living with other people.

I thought it wouldn't be so bad, but it's worse than I thought. For the second time in less than an hour, a random guy has walked into this room looking for one of them. They touch my things, they destroy my comfort level, and I very honestly can not live like this. I'm going to cry.
I need to get out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise, I will very honestly go insane.

... depise loading my car.

But it's okay, because I was loading it with all my crap from the house. I'm moving out, sayonara! I'll wake up early-ish tomorrow morning, stop for gas and visit my favorite gas station attendant to tell him I'm leaving for good (and also to get gas because all the stuff in my car is sure to destroy my mileage) and hit the ol' dusty trail called I-95.
I'll have the sun and the wind at my back the whole way there, nothing between me and home but those horrible early-morning commuters who have the worst road-manners of any previously encountered.
Here comes the new chapter. For real this time.

...hate sunny weather.

It's not that I hate the sun, just the heat. I hate it so much, I hated summer. 

But now, sitting in a friend's dorm, listening to New Order and enjoying air conditioning, I can look outside and at least enjoy the sight of sun warming the foliage. Which is a brilliant word that I rarely hesitate to use. 

My friend has been trying to force her Fig Newtons on us whenever we walk into her room. I've hated Fig Newtons since my stepmother made me eat them in her attempt to counteract the junk food my mother would feed my brother and me as children. 

Too late, I should have said, leveling her with my beyond-my-years stare. The damage is done. 

Creepy little kid. 

Willkommen bei Facebook! my new tab exclaims. I had to change my facebook to German, since some asshole I know made my login page jump straight to the profile of a common aquaintance, an easy-going, friendly, and altogether intolerable person that no one likes. 

Poor thing doesn't deserve all the hate that comes his way. He must have done something really terrible in a past life to be ostracized the way he is. Or he just sucks at being a creature of social graces. 

...wish I never started a blog

Tomorrow is my first day as a college sophomore, and I'm more stressed than I've ever been in my life.
And have never in my life considered starting a blog because that's just ridiculous... But I really need somewhere to vent and it seems the internet is the most simultaneously apathetic and responsive audience.
I keep thinking, this is supposed to be the best time of my life, right? I'm not going to talk about the family troubles, the financial issues, or friend drama. I'm just tired. Listening to music, staring at heaps of dirty laundry, and thinking that I really should be sleeping, because it's the first day of school coming up bright and early around the corner. My friend and I are carpooling, but I don't think I want to. I like to jam out and scream like an idiot in my car, and I don't want to share that. I love my car more than I love most people, and the day that pile of metal decides not to run is the day I don't stop crying.
I wish I were a better writer, that would make this infinitely more interesting... But venting is necessary and I need a more creative way to dispel stress and anger and all those other horrible emotions that should not be present when all I've been wanting for the entirety of the summer is to move back to my home and see all my friends. Everything is different, and the four years I get to spend having the best years of my life are sadly short and painful and all too fleeting. Basically, tired, depressed, and feeling sorry for myself.
I have nothing original or interesting to write. But I feel like a new chapter in my life is finally here. It didn't happen when I started college, but rather, the day I realized that we live lives of dissatisfaction and just settling for the next best thing, trying to make do with what we have and scrounge an existence before we die. Morbid and true. Unfortunate, really. Auspiciousness doesn't seem to be a trait in my DNA.
I'm the least lucky person I know. I'm not living on the street or anything, but it feels like it might be preferable. A cardboard box can be quite cozy, and keeping a sleeping bag in my car sounds like a good idea.