I gave you life, and in return you gave me hell.
Well, today started off with my nuts right around my tonsils. My room is very poorly insulated, and when I woke up this morning, it was eight degress. That's right, EIGHT, Octum! Ocho! Hachi! 8! It had to be about 30 degrees in my room because the glass of water I keep on my desk wasn't water. After dressing as rapidly as possible, I went downstairs and grabbed my big ass parka and ran outside to meet the world with open arms... Okay, not really. I was greeted at school by a delectible Religion Exam, which I finished in 45 minutes. Religion, what a useless class. After that I took the physics exam... in the ASS! OMGz! A lot of people said it was hard, but I didn't think so... which is a REALLY bad thing, because that means I didn't know I was fucking up. I handed in my test, and saw Mr. Hughes scrawling something on my 40-point problem, which sucks, because I thought I nailed it. Hopefully it was something really stupid like forgetting units or something.
After I got home from school, I took a nice power nap after some well-needed TeeVeeness. After my nap, I did a little studying for Chem, then went to my mom's choir practice to reherse a flute part I'm playing with them. It was alright, I didn't mess up at all, because I'm a damn secksy floot player. Turns out I'm also turning pages for the organist on several songs. And I didn't mess up there either, because I'm an even seckier page-turner. And here I am now, typing the events of an otherwise boring day.
I suppose I could put some of my thoughts into this post. Welcome to the mind of Buukuta, enjoy your stay.
I don't like people who tell me I'm good at things. Like people who tell me that I'm smart, or that I'm not ugly. Those people make my life suck, because I have to find the contrary at my own merit. Recently I've got the feeling that I'm loosing intelligence, if that's possible. I find myself thinking less than I normally do, and I find it harder to express what I want to. I used to spend countless hours just staring at the celing above my bed in my room and wonder if that there was someone on the other side of my world thinking what I was. But now, I feel empty. And distant. Disconnected.
I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to have a Christmas swarry here or not. If I will, I'll let mah peeps know.
I'm gone.
Buukuta