I am strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting...
Here I am, utterly exhausted and typing, attempting yet again to reason out the reason I have this…
People have brought up the subject that a blog is not a real diary because it is under everyone’s scrutiny and one can barely pour out deep thought/feelings/garbage without feeling corrupted with comments, most unrelated to the actual post (Ex: Ah! I love your site! Did you really make the layout??). Each entry becomes more of a presentation for the readers, making an ordinary yellow-cake-and-chocolate-frosting life into a marzipan-encrusted five-tiered wonder-cake that the reader eats up, only to discover beneath the sugary glaze and pasted roses there is nothing but…ordinariness.
Rofl, that is such a disgustingly pathetic extended metaphor I should delete this entry. No. I am too tired. And it actually balanced (cake=entries, readers=eaters). This is fun.
Anyway, I will not continue as all my points are mooted by my own stupidity. I did not clearly think out my path of…writing, so I will linger over something else just at pointless-myself. I feel inspired to make a list, as I am kooky like that. Here’s a list of Things That Rock.
- Randy Rhoads
- Deryck Whibley’s hair
- BoA
- Blondes. Blondes are hawt.
- Japan…just plain subarashii…
- Domains. Oh, how I wish…*dreams*
- Books. British writers. Brit lit!
- Junkets, going off of #7…
Things That DO NOT Rock…cause I enjoy whining…
- My summer, so far. It could get better, there’s what, a month left?
- Being boyfriendless.
- Being sleepless. I need to sleep now, everyone. Goodnight, pleasant dreams, wish upon a star and all that.
Kimiko