What The Fuck?

WHY is it that every time I decide to write a bloody journal entry I can't think of anything? IS IT REALLY THAT DIFFICULT? Apparently. it is.

Now, I know most people don't read this shyte, and I know it's blatantly extremely tedious to read this, anyway.

BUT, I feel like writing something. Anything. So, I SHALL. HAH!

So, I was supposed to "hang out" with some "friends" today, and you know, I got all ready, wore my corset and made my hair all pretty, ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT IT WAS CANCELED.
Annoyance.

Oh, well. I'm going to go for a walk. I always do that. I just go for pointless walks at 8 a.m. or earlier. Or later. Or whenever. It's 16.30 now.

And I laugh at people. Yes, I do. I walk alone, talk to myself, LAUGH to myself, and laugh at people's faces. It's not that I'm laughing at THEM individually. But once, it just struck me: Humans are strange specimens. I couldn't help but to laugh at this. Everyone is so..strange.


Strange in a normal manner. Whereas I am strange in a strange, strange manner.
I like tea (as you may have noticed). Especially, Earl Grey. I love it. I'm addicted to it.

My Exquisite Tea:
-HOT, HOT, HOT, HOT boiling water
- Ahmad Earl Grey Tea. Or Tetly Earl Grey Tea. TEA LEAVES. Tea bags are OK, but I prefer leaves. MAKE IT STRONG.
- NO SUGAR
- NO LEMON
- NO MILK
- AND GOD FORBID, NO FLAVOURED TEA BAGS. FLAVOURED TEA IS HORRID AND VILE.
- Ice Tea SUCKS.

Yay.

So, I downloaded this layout thingie for my journal, but I'm too lazy to actually paste all the CSS thingies and arranging all the shyte that needs to be arranged. I'd rather much have a plain, dull, monotonous journal entry with a LOT of words instead.

My room has an odd odour to it. Weird.

Now, I know no one bothers to read this. Trust me, I know. But then again, I don't care. You have no idea (maybe you do) how FUN it is to just write and write and write and write and write and write and how incredibly ENJOYABLE it is to post it on some random website, or how ELATING it is to send it to a person who never replies your emails.

Try it; it's terribly fun.

Ok.. So, I added the "one column" THING. I was bored. And I guess it looks nice. Sort Of. I mean, the layout is nice, but I'm not. I ruin it. HAHA.

I make no sense.

I'm hungry. However, every time I eat, I feel bloated, as though I have eaten a feast, but I haven't. And it's weird. And then I regret eating. But I want to eat. But I don't want my stomach to go all weird on me. What a dilemma.


OK. I'm scared now. I'm hearing some strange noises coming from my neighbour above me, or the one next to me; I'm not sure. It sounds like a muffled trumpet, or a duck that's constipated, or something. Scary.


I could keep writing. Oh, I could write pages and pages. I could even write a book longer than... I don't know.. The Lord Of The Rings series all put together. HAHA. But no one would read it. I probably wouldn't bother reading it myself.

I know! I could kidnap some "innocent" prey and FORCE them to read it! HAHAHAHAH. "READ IT OR I GOUGE YOUR EYES OUT". But...If I gouge their eyes out, how will they read? GAH. FINE. "READ IT OR I CHOP YOUR FINGERS OFF. ONE BY ONE!" ...But..How will they hold the book if they have no fingers?

AHH.

I don't care.

• YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO CLICK THIS!

I possess the ability to feature an artist, but no ones reading this, and I doubt anyone would want to be referred by me. Ha. Unless, they were more unhinged than I am. Which is impossible.


Fare Thee Well, My Beloved(s)

Cynthia Schminthia