Fiddle sticks.
I bought a simple, unadorned (somewhat shitty) black journal today.
I decided it was time to have one secure location to record my thoughts, without any inhibitions. I’ve had notebooks and the like before, but they don’t seem very special to me. Writing on my typewriter is too tedious as well. And to be honest, I haven’t been keeping up with my brain waves in a while and it is making me feel less than prolific.
Sometimes it is nice to let it all go on much more personal terms, without anyone’s analysis and, if nothing else, I can write secrets in this parchment without preying eyes. Yeah, I know, what a typical hack/emo kid. (I am calling this little black book the book of daily pontifications, if that reduces the pretention levels...) The main reason I write my life down is so that I can look back later on and say, wow, look what a fool I was.
Anyway. I enjoyed this long weekend. It was quite enjoyable, and I surprised myself with my social tact.
A few pictures of this weekend
From this book store in Srq. Self-Help: Bang Head Here
Bunny I had to babysit.
Bunny beastiality.
Uhh... yeah.
school parking lot with my sister to see Cats.
Doll from hell.
Done.