This is my old account.


I wish I had a life. But alas, I love books far too much than human interaction.

A glimpse into my little world. Wouldn’t I like to know what I dream. I can never quite remember anything. It’s a shame. The best ideas come from dreams.

Sleeping has become a chore for myself these days. I just have one too many a thing dancing around in my melon. It’s so full of seeds that I can enjoy the juicy pink center. O, to be young and have nothing to do. That is thee life.

Drama.

Lets talk about drama.

I try to avoid it, but it always finds me. No matter what little hole I crawl into it finds me, and rapes me in the ass, hard. So hard that I cry. This is why I hate drama. Girls cause drama. I hate girls.

What else do I hate.
I should make a list, but it’d never end.

If I were to paint a wall, I would start with an annoying amount of tape around every section that I didn’t want covered.

I can’t write when people distract me. I often become disgruntled and end up deleting things that I try too hard to get out. It’s a horrible thing really. And wouldn’t you know it’s always the same damn people too. Telling you useless information that you really don’t care to know. Like that there sister is pregnant or something stupid like that. Gawd.

When I think about cupcakes I imagine the awful teeth-screamingly sugar covered piece of shit on top of the yummy cake center. Why can’t there just not be frosting on the top? Wouldn’t there be less fat people? The world has enough of them. Those frosting loving basterds.

I’ve met so many people who hate cinnamon candy in my life that I feel an urge to make use of my tear ducts.

It’s illegal to sell your organs, but wouldn’t it be neat if you could? How much would someone be willing to pay is more the question here, if anything.

I don’t care anymore that I can’t go shopping. But I want to so bad, so bad, so bad.
I’ll get rid of the urge by making cookies, that always helps.

Why doesn’t it stop raining.

Maybe it’s a sign that I wont be able to get to sleep anyways. I hope not. Damn rain. God must be bowling again. He’s sure getting alota strikes tonight. You go God.

Speaking of. I never want to get into an argument about believing in God again for the rest of my freaking life. In the end all I get is a “your going to hell”, my only comeback for that has to be “I don’t believe so”. But I have to ask myself, what is really a lie here. The truth is, everything’s a lie. Life is about as real as Santa or the Easter bunny. I wish the Easter bunny was real. He’d be a superhero and kick WalMart’s cheap ass with his hind leg of justice. And he’d have little lawn gnomes as his minions of impending doom.

I wish I went to more fairs in the summer. But carnies scare me. I must have a phobia or something.