I'm Not Okay I Promise

01.02.'09
Taking this down soon...
Don't worry, I'll be putting up a better rewrite sometime this year, hopefully in a few days.

-Rii. :B

I'm not a juvenile delinquent - and never will be. Sure, I tend to drink; party despite school nights and curfews; cuss like a sailor; tried to smoke; and went on with whatever crazy shit my friends pulled me into…

But that's all part of the teenage experience, am I right? And God knows a teen won't rebel just because they feel like it…unless of course, they're completely psychotic - which I'm clearly not. Not even the least.

Bottom line is: my lunatic mother sends me off to some prep school south of Redding at fear of seeing me behind bars in the distant future. What she doesn't know is that Loyola High Boarding School is twice as nuttier as she is. With its vast, intimidating campus, nosy and probably deranged principal, students who screw the rules to go along drinking and getting themselves stoned during lunch, and the unusual shit they initiate every weekend...who wouldn't go crazy?

Scratch that - maybe I will get myself in prison someday. I'm just about ready to kill a puppy and throttle every annoying twit around me - especially my alleged outcast neighbor and chemistry partner who peeks through a hole in a wall between our dorm rooms on occasion. Not to forget those annoying clique leaders who won't leave me alone unless I join one of their pathetic groups.

Now take your pick: are you a Prep? Nerd? Greaser? Jock? Rebel? Nice guy? Artsy? Bully? Geek? Wannabe? Skater? Punk? Gangster? Outcast? Some other clique?

Welcome to Loyola High Boarding School, where stereotypes are the new black.

Oh, the joys of adolescence. So…can I hang myself now?