Tick tick tick. Time passing. Hello, time.


I wish I was as Sylvia Plath, because I feel just as angsty and slightly insane and don't have any poetic ability. I've been on anti-anxiety medicine for awhile. It makes me sick. I'm 5'7 and I weigh 129 pounds now. (Sorry, I know this isn't a personal ad.) It does not look healthy on me. I cry a lot. I write a lot of journal entries about nature because I dislike humanity. Also, I'm going to school to be a teacher. Leave your kids with me? Please? Please?! I'll teach them how to spell onomonopoeia!

I have the internet because I had to come back to my apartment after summer break started to get my plant. It's this lovely vine that I keep in the bathroom. I walked in and it had crawled half way down the sink (with it's leaves, no appendages to move about with.) There was also a pan that had heat up chicken Parmesan in it that I didn't deign to wash and is no a biological weapon. I'm keeping it in the closet.

One of my friends is moving into the apartment building next semester, so that's nice. She came in while I was napping today and told me I looked high. I'm not high, I'm just really tired. But I appreciate fresh frankness. It reminds me of Rhett Butler lines.

P.S. I'm on the look out for a sassy gay friend.