96,000 miles & the starlings are mating.

"God doesn't always have the best Goddamn plans, does he?"

I refuse to retract the things I have said in the past few days, but I would be stupid to not acknowledge that I might have been wrong about a few things. But just a few.
Dry spells are underrated. People are reckless. Things that come unexpectedly are not always enjoyable. And even though I can tend to my temple the best I can, I can't keep others from defacing it.

I spent my evening moaning uncontrollably into a unforgiving neck. Judas and Jesus were singing at each other as I was overcome with physical pain and confusion. It was sacrilegious and sad. It was violent in nature. When I saw the blood stained cotton I realized that, although not entirely, I had lost a fragment of innocence that I had been clinging to. It was a truly tragic sight. I remember saying, "Well, I'm just not that type of girl." Which was responded with, "Why not?" This was far from an ideal situation and in all honesty was rather frightening. But I did nothing wrong. I am not at fault.

When I woke up this morning the first thing I did was hug my parents. They hugged back. It felt good to feel safe, even if it was just for a moment.

But no worries. I'm not going to let the world make me ugly and I'm not going to settle for second best. I've come too far to let misfortune bring me to my knees. I can stand, but it hurts to walk.

Jesus Christ Superstar is a stupid fucking movie.