Don't expect this post to last 24hours

Well, it's wedensday the twenty fifth, and I should really be asleep.

The sky looked like cat-sick tonight.

I wonder whether it will rain up-chucked cubes of dried-out salmon tomorrow?

Today was yet another madsadday.

There was a blue plastic handled knife.

But that went away for five minutes, while the parcels were being opened and photographed and put on facebook.

Then snicker snack was heard again.

Well fuck this.

Fuck this selfish life, and damn feeling nothing all the time.

A long, thin scratch now runs down one cheek.

And hey, it didn't even hurt.

Raise your glass to pissing "friends" off.

Confuse everyone with your words of sorrow, "you used to be so bubbly" they said.

Switching tenses, constantly.

Unused lunch money.

Rice and cameo creams.

Damn being put down, damn her being moved up.

So, so low.

So, Charlotte, you got your beard trimmed, it looks very distinguished.

Distinguished is a very long word, I've just realized.

Writing whatever comes to mind, babbling.

Leaving the door slightly ajar.

Three bloody x's.

Left gets all the pain.

Late night walks.

Writing by the light of a street lamp.

Chasing a cat under the neighbours house.

A spider in my Hair.

raNdoM cApITaliSaTioN

My life is a mess.

Don't expect this post to last 24hours.

And don't even THINK of "tattling"