Archives: November 2005, March 2006, April 2006, May 2006, June 2006, October 2006, November 2006, December 2006, January 2007, December 2008, January 2009, June 2009, July 2009, June 2011
My Blogs


visable The Nine O'Clock... - Subscribe
Train to the heathen-lands...

I sure do not look forward to venturing into the city tomorrow, Monday morning drudgeries, but I have to bring Grandma to her specialist appointment.

She has a three hour test that they are doing, so I am to venture off and lose myself in the urban sprawl of suburbia and dismal downtroden slums. Which is exciting, a day off from the real world, and a day of lost looks and loser tags.

Excitment? No, I take that back. Just change, change isn't excitement. It's just that...change.

I am okay, for those whom care to know, just carrying on with my day to day trivalities . Winning over the hearts of those over the age of seventy... Argh...

I love my life.
1 Comments
Mood: Hypocritical
Inspiration: Charlie Chaplin

visable Weak Week. May 15th, 2006 7:25:08 pm - Subscribe
I have been house-ridden and un-adventurous as of late. Grandma is not well and the nurse visits here every morning and once at night. Her spirits are unbreakably high.

I wish I shared her optimistic sentiment...

I hope to find a summer job soon, school finishes in a few weeks, and soon all the high school kids will have applied and thusly taken all possible employment.

I'll drop off resumes tomorrow, I just need to print some off. Maybe at the Vet clinic, a receptionist wouldn't be bad... Maybe at the Library... Who knows?

Besides, a teenage hermit doesn't really look fantastic on a resume. I also lack people skills, so maybe the library is a better option.

Oh fond temporary memories.
0 Comments
Mood: Slothful
Inspiration: Lesbien Peanut Cartoons.

visable Hear me weep. May 30th, 2006 3:27:18 am - Subscribe
Loudly and unshielded.

I am so far-gone into this mental meltdown. I need help, a friend, a lover, a life. An excuse to become an alcoholic, an addict, a fuck-up.

That's all this.

No motivation. No liveliness. No inspiration.

I am sick of sex. Sick of hearing about it. Sick of feeling it's after-effects. Sick of losing people to it's addicting qualities. I am so frustrated. So nauseated. So high-strung. I'd be a happier person if I was as naive as I was four years ago. One year ago. Seven months ago, when this shit all started.

Damn. Keep it in your pants kids. No one likes an after-school slut special. No matter how special they are to you.

Fuck.
0 Comments
Mood: Lousy
Inspiration: Fat Earthworms in Top Soil.