Superfluous Ammounts of Stupidity
It vexes me still why I even bother with this bloody thing, this journal. Reasoably so, I take it out every once in a full moon...to, more often than not, amuse myself with all of your pseudo transgressions. There is no such things as a bad day. It's pitiful, really, blaming the sun for rising on your reprehensible sad face. Oh, the tears that stain one's cheeks! I'll tell you: you've had a bloody horrible day when tear staines aren't what you're worried about. And, what's worse, you put it on display, like a sick biography that no respectable human being, or muggle, would read. Shallow, the lot of you. I've called you such names before. When in the bloody hell are you lot going to realize that I was right all along? Shallow, yes, and rather slow.
Why is it that I can hardly walk down a corridor alone without the silence being disturbed? And abruptly? I had been taking a trip to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to correct a few grammatical errors I had made in one of my decently-long papers before it was corrected, and...this...the sodding lavitory door wouldn't stop slamming itself shut. I swear, it was that damn Potter that did it, I tell you. It would not cease. I hade to hex it permanently shut for it to quit. That idiot thinks his jokes are funny. I pleased myself, as the silence came back, thinking of them being trapped in there. It fit my fancy, I must say.
Well, I suppose it is now time for all of you Potter and Black-lovers to gnash your rotting teeth. Or, as some of you prefer, trying to be the better person, because that always works, you know.
Why is it that I can hardly walk down a corridor alone without the silence being disturbed? And abruptly? I had been taking a trip to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to correct a few grammatical errors I had made in one of my decently-long papers before it was corrected, and...this...the sodding lavitory door wouldn't stop slamming itself shut. I swear, it was that damn Potter that did it, I tell you. It would not cease. I hade to hex it permanently shut for it to quit. That idiot thinks his jokes are funny. I pleased myself, as the silence came back, thinking of them being trapped in there. It fit my fancy, I must say.
Well, I suppose it is now time for all of you Potter and Black-lovers to gnash your rotting teeth. Or, as some of you prefer, trying to be the better person, because that always works, you know.