My sight is fading.

[banneord]

I am tired. I'm sick of Brecht, the so called componist with no sense of rhythm whatsoever. Next thursday, we'll perform one of his compositions on stage, and I get an urge to hibernate when I think about it. I wish I could summon a Linn who was interested in school and other types of slave labour, and force her to go to school in my place. There she'd be really nice to everyone and get perfect grades before returning home in order to follow my mothers orders. Meanwhile, I'd do whatever I wanted. I would probably not be here. Haha! What an awesome thought!

I miss, I miss. I long for and I crave, but I won't get what I wish until thursday in two weeks. Two little weeks.
"Herregud, og tida går så seint."