Good morning. It's overcast and my class has started. t. Healing mage.
I feel like I see things as an adult now, or as a real human soul, whatever name you'd like you give it, it won't suffice to explain anyhow.

Good morning. M and a friend of his went to the cabin. We drove past a forest fire which consumed the mountains in embers and filled the air with plesant smelling smoke.
In town the next day it rained ash, and it would get in your eyes if you didn't hold your head down. I stayed up late on purpose because liams friend likes to stay up and talk. I do too even though talking to males makes me hate myself.

I am Dorian Gray and my parents are Basil Howard. Nature is his boyish innocence and nurture is basil and henry.

Goodmorning. Sometimes the world is a poem. Tragic, beutiful, and not ever honest with it's true meaning. Other times the poem is a bandage of imagination and metaphore over the raw wound of the world. It's a versitile little concept. I agree with what I said last winter on this blog about metaphore still., I woke up at 7:30AM this morning. I havn't slept well or long.

I don't know how long I had been in a half awake purgatory before the world began to drunkenly sway. I sat up and felt uneasy as if I had been awoken for school after failing to set an alarm. I stood and considered what I was even supposed to do if it got worse, but a sudden humor took over me, and I thought that being a casualilty for the strange tempremental outbursts of the earth was a romantic end. At least it felt so, in the lonley dark blue twilight rocking room of early morning.

I remembered the sensation that I felt the morning of the day prior. I thought that there would be an earthquake.

sitting on a rift.

I don't have to worry too much about art because some day I will get pregnant. I will have usefull sex for the first time in my life and become big and rpund and turgid with my child. When M is gone we will watch the anime that I like together and play games and fish and hike. M doesn't like kino no, probobly because there are no lewd girls in it. He isn't a rover either. That anime was made for me, not him.

Its one of those days where I want to feel clean.

The prison of the human mind. Cat's do not wonder if their lives have been useful.

Theres an episode of Kino No Tabi (three men on the railroad) where kino tells a story of a land with no need for jobs. The people there make up jobs to do because they need stress in order to not get lazy. That's what the gym does for me when my life is easy, although when I have a real adult life it might weigh on me. Bleh.

Hello. Goodmorning sophilosophers. I like confederacy of dunces. I like skyrim. I liked kino no tabi. I love BOOGIEPOP. My neck is really stiff. I like drawing agin :3. Master acctually says things like "I am glad that you are still working on your website" even though nobody looks at it, not even him. My freedom of expression is maintained that way. I suppose he thinks that it's some kind of work-ethic thing? It's like when a father says of his son, "he's such a bright boy, so good with the computer". Or mabye he is simply happy that I have some kind of hobby that i've maintained my attention on for longer than a month. Although, that habit plauges me less as time goes on, I am almost human now.

Goodmorning.

I sent an inquiry to a used electric-goods-monger with intent to purchase his electric keyboard. But he never got back to me, which is good. I have too much on my hands already with this novel plot.

“your greatest work will be unoriginal”
I could try and fail ten million times to write a fan-fiction, but as soon as I go to develop an original plot, it’s plagued with one copy of every character Ive seen as of late.
It’s the ‘lesser of two weevils’, considering that if I wasn’t supplementing my story with other fiction, I would have been forced to make it an autobiographical endeavor,
which would no doubt be unreadable, as proven by the success of my personal blog amongst NO ONE.
The silly quote is a favorite of the fictional character I’m tracing. You’ll see what i’m talking about soon reader, at least by April if everything goes to plan.
Auf wiedersehen,
-your uncreative friend sammler.
(A half-hearted imitation of Ignatius J. Reilly)

Goodnight!

I talked to the person who left a note on my geust book saying that he likes the way that I write. I'm having fun, lthugh I worry that the way I write might be unbearable, I also can't force myself to leave anything unsaid. I Won't go into it or be self-referential lest he decides to check up on the blog.

There are three flies on my overhead light. Panzer is staring at the growing pool of decaf coffee from the pot I acccidetally overfilled. I have 10 pages of confederacy of dunces left. My story looks to be floundering one day, then recives a new page the next. I wish that I had to write stories for some school thing. I wake up every morning and happily finish whatever assignments I have.

I stayed up untill 7AM or so to write. It's 2,300 words as of 3PM the next day, when I've woken up. I'm thinking about it SOMUCH. It's a great feeling, I like writting.