Didn't I already make a blog post, buried somewhere... anyway, no one responds to this in my life. I don't know about categorizing things like this. So, I got mad, locked in my room, because of New Orleans and then Orlando, after Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, felt totally tortured, and e-mailed people nicely. My dad rattled on that I called them niggers, like it mattered.. I think, 1st, someone stopped, or maybe it was someone else. Well, I think, then, I got mad at a girl, but she was acting racist. I know it's improper, and I wanted her to talk to me more. I don't remember what I said, but I didn't say, "You're a nigger," or, "I'm gonna *beep* you." I used to write more very, very detailed.
Oh, and no one would admit she was really being racist. It was very contrived. You know, they just rattle on about morals and being white, and they're part Native American indian, like Johnny Depp. I might be. Wow, but they don't really mean it but will rattle on more. They're like balloon heads. I don't think this is the right way to talk about something, but I guess we should have started writing sooner.
I don't know what about Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory directed by Tim Burton strikes a nerve with you. You're gonna have to be taken in and realize this is your problem and that I don't approve of this problem, which I see in everyone I meet very strongly. You'll just have to get out of my life, in this way. Help! Someone do something. The police aren't listening. They're invading me with messages.