You know what it is to believe. It makes me want to scream.

This title fills me with inspiration and rage. It quite illustrates everything I feel. I know not how I've come so close to love Angels and Airwaves. They fill in the words that I cannot think of myself.
Today was a rather amazing day :P I am nearly finished with my story, which is absolutely exciting to me. I've finished one story before, and it was a rather disturbing one in which a boy with insane ideas of how society should work murders his family and afterward himself. My mother read this, and since then, asked me if I am ok. I have not finished a story since. Luckily for my mother, this story is of a polar opposite genre, and I have learned some new words besides fu*ck. I star out the letter for my mother, who reads this and has complained to me in front my father that my language is sickening. I wonder what she thinks of me, especially when I am in school? The idea is slightly amusing to me, yet I feel a tinge of guilt.
Right now I am waiting for my youtube movie to load. I'm watching Misery, the disturbing movie based off of Steven king's genius book, also called Misery. I am also experiencing a burning feeling in my chest, but I know why that is, and I cannot say I will do anything about it. I do not know if I can. I love Steven King and I aspire to be a very good writer as he is, although my genre is different. At the moment I cannot pretend that I could possibly compare.
Today, being February 14 (yesterday, really) is/was Valentine's Day. I am feeling sorry for myself for two reasons today, the first being a very lame, pathetic, and cliche one. Of course that reason is that I am alone, which is stupid. I do not feel sad that I am not in a relationship. In all honesty I don't believe I could care less. It's just that Carnations are my absolute favourite flowers, so I wish for someone to fall in love with me just so I can simply have a carnation. I love their smell.
The second reason I have to feel sorry for myself, on the other hand, is very valid. As today is the fourteenth, it is also a very (very) close friend's Birthday. I will be kind and courteous and I will not mention this person's name. All the girls my age in the church, including one older than I (the birthday girl is younger) were invited, besides me. I was a little surprised at this, as I thought myself a friend of their family and had never before been denied and invitation, especially when everyone else was not! I have concluded that the family finds me too worldy and a bad influence for their girls, in that I believe, all things considered, slightly different things than them, in which they, in their strong faith, will not bend and accept. That is fine with me. They may remain as they wish, and I will move on. I will be more than that. I am bothered by this, though, for how can I not be? It has come to the sad point where I am denied to see my friends because I have chosen a path different from theirs at a slight. Oh well.
I havent much else to write today. I brought Rosie on a walk, which went fine, and I also discovered upon bringing her to the bathroom with me that she fails at being a piss partner. I found this idea very amusing and proceeded to 'laugh like a fool' as a close friend from school would put it. And now I tire of writing in this fashion. I shall commence to watch my movie. Adieu!