Guns in the air.

Alright, lately I haven't been able to remember who I am, which is a really weird thing to go through, and today I finally remembered who I am. A New Years Resolution in a magazine was to sit down and write 5 reasons you'd marry yourself, and not to sound cocky (even though I am), this would usually be super easy for me. I'm really confident, I'm articulate, but lately I've been trying to just channel different ways of being because I couldn't remember who I was. It's like I just woke up one morning, had to put on a fake smile and then couldn't get out of it. Like limbo or something freaky. Anyway, I'm back. I remember who the fuck I am. I'm a bitch. I'm cocky as hell. I am talented, overly ambitious, beautiful, and sexy. I don't create self-limitations. I always win. That's how it is, and how it's going to stay. I'm the best, and I always will be. Now you know how it is. ;)
Another of my New Years Resolutions is to lose another fifteen to twenty pounds and keep it off. I like my body now, I'm just bored. That's a really stupid reason to lose a large amount of weight, but whatever, I won't be overweight anymore, I'll be a healthy weight for my height, so no danger there.
I don't know if you know the feeling, but right now I can feel a multiple-week-long bitch fest about to arise. I explained about the lead in the play, that I, obviously, got. (I always win, remember?) Well, my self-proclaimed 'rival' (I disagree, there's no competition) thinks we're going to 'get-along'. Please. I'm no doormat. I'm not going to sit there and read my lines like a good girl while she tells people I'm pregnant because she's so self-conscious. Sorry, bitch, some of us are just better. Today, I was sitting in History thinking about 'leagues'. You know, like, "Dude, she's out of your league". I finally made sense of them. I mean, I'd understood them before, but the words had never really been there. Leagues were an unclear idea in my head, not a real thing. But I thought today about the boys I flirt with, the boys she flirts with; my style, her style; the way I think, the way she thinks; my looks, her looks. I am just so out of her league. Even the boys that I have my feet are better than the boys she struggles to make look at her. Not that I would allow anyone to be defined by the amount of people who adore them, but it's a comparison worthy of mentioning.
I treat this blog like a bitch, don't I? All I do is vent. And I fully realize that the people I talk about can easily read this anytime they want, and know damn well that I'm talking about them. And I can't care anymore. What's the point of acting like you want peace with someone you want to slap? Acting fake will just make you lose yourself.