I. Am. Fucked. I messed up SO bad. I got tipsy and inked a big, bold number seven on my left forearm. What got into me? I'm noble. I'm diplomatic. And yet I act so, so dumb. I decided after a few hard lemonades to either bleach my hair or tat something on myself.
I'm still brunette.
I used an unsterile, dirty, used sewing needle, and some half-dry pen ink. What was I thinking? On my left leg, I poked only three or so dots, attempting to make an X, before giving up. I was going to do the Seven Xs that Ramona drew in the Scott Pilgrim movie. Then, on my right leg, I tried to draw the If logo from MSI, but that went horribly, and it looks like I failed to use one of those freckle pen things. And, lastly, on my left forearm, I inked a 1 by .5 inch 07 on my arm, with loads of blotches.
I think I'm dumb. I don't know why I would do that. I went to my sister about an hour after, and we rubbed dirty, nasty makeup all over it, then wiped it off with a dirty rag, then I had the bright idea to cut over the tattoo with an eyebrow shaver in order to get the ink to scab up, or something. Then, I spit on it in order to stop the red itchy feeling, covered it in makeup, put a bandaid on it, took it off some thirty minutes later, wiped the makeup off, and bandaged it up. I must have something wrong with me. If I don't have an infection, I'll start investing in lottery tickets.
If my dad finds out, he'll be insanely mad and I'll probably have my legs snapped in two. I wish I was joking. I'm so incredibly dumb. I decided to keep things under wraps (hahaha) and not tell anyone. I'll keep this to myself for now.
I've had the last two days of school out sick, and today is a half day. That means I have lunch at the very end of the day. It kinda sucks, because I'm hungry now.
My arm is throbbing. It might just be me worrying about it, though. I totally ran out of homestuck gifs, so I'll probably use talksprites now. After that, maybe I'll use DeltaSession gifs. I'm not sure.
I need to work on my God complex. It isn't healthy. I think the combination of my trauma and my parents genes is the issue. I just put myself on such a high pedastal and think of everyone as bugs below me. I need to quit doing that, because one day, I'll underestimate someone much better than I and I'll put myself in harms way to prove how much smarter I am. I think way too highly of myself. I regard myself as a genius when in reality I'm just a teenager. I'm sure the second after I save this and close my laptop, I'll go back to saying I'm capable of figuring out the fourth dimension, but this is a first step, right?
Despite calling myself the next Gallileo, I can never take myself too seriously, because this text editor has no spellcheck, and I keep getting emails from Ethan telling my about typos I've made. Unless Einstein gave himself tattos while tipsy, and forgot how to spell without autocorrect, I should really get off of my insanely high horse.
Continuing my childish antics, my father's girlfriend has taken my horn. I am very mad and very upset. That horn is MY turf. My sister honked it, and she took it. I shall one day get revenge on them both.
Stupidly yours, Michael.