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Politically Incorrect MoE should die. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Headache. Keep hope, keep going. I will be there by your side. To hold your hand. I need to draw a line on my calendar. And then, tomorrow will be a new day. ARGHrawrRAwGH I DON'T WANT TO CREW ANYMORE! *FOAMS AT THE MOUTH WILD THRASING WILDLY LIKE A INDESCRIBABLY HORRENDOUS MUTANT WATER MONSTER THAT ONLY EATS PLANKTON FOR BREAKFAST, CLAMS FOR LUNCH AND PEOPLE FOR DINNER* What's so ridiculous about the truth? What's with the broken parts? What's with the tired smiles? Today, I doubted. Today, I teared. Today, I choked back on nothing. I feel tired, in my mind. My body's fine. You know, sometimes. I really don't get you. So much for telepathy. Today, I doubted. What's with me? What's with you. -2359, 17-6-10 350. Oh 351 now. Hah My post meter is stuck at 349. Seriously! Two posts ago, I saw, 349. One post ago, I saw, 349. Now, as I'm posting this, it's STILL 349!!! If it doesn't hit 350 after this post, I'll... Well I don't know what I'll really do. But it won't be nice. Ah hell I probably won't give a damn and just continue blogging anyway. Bleh. Anyways, past few days have been sweltering. And by sweltering, I don't mean, hot. I mean OMYGOD I NEED MY ICE CREAM FORCED DOWN MY THROAT AND INTO MY STOMACH NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!!! The words "ice cream" and "throat" are substitutable with other words. I'm listening to "Over the Rainbow" now. The soft version. It's amazingly serene. I feel calmed down just by listening to it. And my eyes are closing. Then the reality of chemistry pinches my baby-soft (I would like to think so) skin, and I yelp with a feeling of disappointment and pick up my pen. I think. But am I? -1242, 13-6-10 |