Concentration 64

Concentration 64. Don't go in. My bathroom door. If you do, you'll surely die.


I can't concentrate. Everything is banging, jumbling, swirling, tossing around in my head. English class was slightly embarrassing today, for lack of better words. "Who stole the center of my bagel?" "Who invented the bagel? The Jews." I feel so blonde sometimes. It's annoying. I barely ever talk to avoid these kinds of situations and then the few times I open my mouth, this happens. I swear... Breathe. Just breathe.


He just had to be in the room. It wouldn't be such a big deal if he wasn't there. Actually it would, seeing as I told probably the most discriminatory joke about anyone ever. I hated it. 

Why am I so dumb! Breathe. Just Breath.


And the topic was why there are holes in donuts... The topic should have been why there's such a big hole in my head when I'm talking. Around him.