blustocking | urge to kill RISING...subsiding....no, RISING

My journal is decidedly, well...shit, really. I can't remember the last time I wrote something (in here) that I felt shouldn't die a horrible, slow, water-tortury death. Even now, it's gasping for life. I feel the urge to mock. I need to mock people. Know why? Because people are stupid. You and me(fuggit, I just sounds stupid) included. Yess, we are all bi-pedular, spectacular bags of pootastical goodness. Oui?

Just now, I got distracted by my arm.
That's no good. I shouldn't feel myself up so much. Why don't I just marry me? Yes, why don't I? Wait...are you asking? *shuffles feet, looks down* Well...I don't know, maybe. Would you? *blushes, looks away* Well....AHAHAHAHAHA, NO! Ya crazy bitch! Sit up straight. Yes ma'am.

And p.s., my photography, it's shit too. Seriously. I don't even KNOW what's good anymore. And I've taken A LOT since I've been back. It all looks the same. Fuck me up my egotistical, suffering artist ass.

And go look at my new pic on my profile.
And eat your oacles.
And shhhhh, they'll hear you.
And I don't know why, but I've a feeling tomorrow...or rather, today, is gonna suck.