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·      May be triggered by a horrible event: Death of a loved one, break-up, failure at something like school. (This may make the person suffering from this cause suicide because they want to forget all of the pain or to want to be with the one they lost)

·      In teens, it is difficult to tell if they suffer from depression because they symptoms are close to the way normal teens are.(since no one can help them and they may suffering from the loneliness)

·      Signs of depression: doing worst in school, not doing well with friends and family, substance abuse, oversleeping, change in eating habits, breaking laws and obsession with death. (These are things to look out for so that you can help out the people who need it)

I didn't cry last night. 
Progress. 


(not a true story lol. has nothing to do with me.) 

"They're just so hopeful, all the time. If the world was about to end, and I looked at your eyes and they were still hopeful I'd know we'd be all right. But if I looked at them and they were scared or less bright, then we dying." 

I'm leaving school early anyway. 

What happens when you get involved? People start telling lies.

I really wish the lights would have stayed off so we could leave early. I have stuff to do.

Time on my hands, to sit and think about what I did wrong. As the days turns into nights, and nights back into days I sit alone.

The title explains it all.

Started a new job at Wendy's the other day. Lets see how this goes.

This power outage crap is annoying.

Can we please just leave early?

It's the day before prom for God's sake.  And I'm exhausted.

At least I get to miss a portion of Calculus.

:D

Jugo de Passion Frutas
Kyler
Es muy sabrosa, y dulce.

The staff was amazing, professional and seemed like they new everything about what they were doing, and absolutely loved their jobs.

My favorite dish was jugo e mango, I loved it, I don't even like milk, but it was amazing.

You owe me. I'll send the bill. 

1. My shoulder blades hurt. 
2. My hurts. 
3. My ribs feel like they hurt too. 
4. My shoulder blades hurt alot. 
5. I'm tired. 
6. There's alot to do. 
7. I'm itchy. 
8. The medicine didn't help for my shoulder blade. 
9. I'm still tired. 

"You don't hear about girls getting shot, that sounds like a guy thing." 

"Yeah, girls usually get stabbed." 

Why do I do this to myself 

The following is my story.

 

I’ll tell you now,

It’s not very happy,

It’s filled with a lot of shit,

But it has to be told.

As I’m writing this,

My thoughts are jumping.

The stories you are about to read
Are in no specific order.

They wander with my thoughts.

Even this intro was written

After writing half the book.

I just wanted to warn you

That you’re going to be in

My head, where anything

Can pop up.

No warning,

No rhyme or reason,

Just random thought.

And this book may not be

For you, so I won’t get

Offended if you toss it.

Just don’t expect it

To be like anything

You’ve read before.

It’s raw and truthful,

And probably shitty,

But hey, it might help

You learn that

If I got through it

You definitely can!

 

Oh and also,

The names have been

Changed to protect

The innocent,

The accused,

And the assholes.

If you think you know

These people,

Feel free not to tell them

They’re in this book,

Oh, and enjoy

 

:)

I woke up this morning and immediatley  started freaking out because I heard the sound of a garbage truck; which means they were collecting trash, and I forgot to take out the trash last night. I was so comfy and warm I decided not get up and take out the trash even though I had a winning chance. As I was lying down on the couch, I was waiting to listen to the trash truck pass by my house. After 5-10 minutes it never did. I continued to stay in position on the couch and dozed off. When I woke up I still heard the truck. I went to peek out my window and saw that it was not a trash truck, it was some other truck tearing down a house. It was then I remembered It was Wednesday and the trash men don't come till Friday. I was kind of bummed it wasn't Friday. I wanted the week to be over.

One hostile landlord
Sandy floors, noisy neighbors
Everything we need

The glass harmonica is played by wetting one's fingertips, then pressing them onto the edges of the bowls as they rotate.
Differently sized bowls produce different notes.
The bowls are nested within each other, so the entire rack of bowls is cone-shaped.
It makes me think about how sounds that we don't generally think of as "music," like the rubbing of a wet fingertip across a glass surface, can be used to create music.
Since the bowls are nested within each other, the waves must only radiate out.  Otherwise, a portion of the sound would be lost.

Music by Mozart, performed on a glass harmonica by French artist Thomas Bloch:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XPfoFZYso8