i just woke up. poor me. =.=

Darling, I feel has been too long since we last spoke! Twas been yeas and years! Or at least it doth seem like that to mine heart.
Anyway.
La la la.
I feel the pressure. Tis getting closer now.
Hmm... the problem with pressure is that it is sabbath. This may not seem like a problem, but it actually is. It is a conundrum of the most pressing kind. It is this: If it is sabbath, I do not have to do homework. But if it is sabbath, I also do not get to engage in any pursuits that are lovely to me. Such as singing. And drinking boba. And.... walking around tagging the neighborhood with my Super Special Secret Tag. Although it being sabbath does not usually restrain me from the last one.
Le bf seemed rather impressed at my mucho wonderfulissiomo tagging skills. I think this was because I didn't tell him that my tag stands for FuckUEffingReTardedpEnis. Which, if you put spaces in, reads, Fuck U Effing ReTarded pEnis. Or FUERTE. Whichever suits your fancy.
Wherever! Whenever! We're meant to be together, I'll be there and you'll be near! And that's the deal my dear!
Man.
I miss the summer.
I miss the summer.... a world of fragile things... Look for me at the boba teahouse, hiding in a, uh, hollow... uh... tree... or something.... The last part is un poco hard to orchestrate.
Anyways...... I shall now expound upon the moral depravity of myself.
I am obviously the slut in my group of friends. I also am known as "the blond Asian", by Mark, and by everyone else. Tis not my fault. Tis the fault of the architecture. IF THEY DIDN"T PUT THE FRICKIN POLES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK I WOULDN"T CRASH INTO THEM PRACTICALLY EVERYDAY! AND I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU PEOPLE WHO MADE THE STAIRS TO THE ENGLISH DEPARTMENT SO DURNED STEEP! YEAH, YOU! I'M TALKIN TO YA! FIX IT NOW OR I'LL SUE YA!! OOH! WHAT NOW!
Anyway. After having given my keyboard a cough drop from all that yelling, may we get back to the issue at hand? It is not my fault that I have been so kindly labeled a slut. It is the fault of Mark. He is indeed a heartbreaker.
Heartbreaker! Love taker! Dream maker! Dontcha mess around wit meeeee!
Dude, that was so EASY! Kitty walked over, messily and disgustingly chewing something. "Please leave," said I. So, with no further ado, and no words, she turned around and left. I was mucho relieved. And surprised. Does that often happen in yo world? Not once in a blue balls! I mean blue moon! Sorry, Freudian slip. *Eheh.*
Wait, does that imply that I myself have blue balls? I hope it does not. For I am not a man. And if I were a man, I would be gay. And that would be shameful to my dad and to half the world at large. Because we seem to have a sad lack of acceptance in this world. (Or at least half of it)
Oh! Did I tell you I'm going to have a psychology appointment next Wendsday? (Maybe I should discuss with said psychologist how it seems to be outside my parade of talents to be able to spell Wednesday.) (Oh, there we go. Woo. Karma.) Anyhow, what was I sayin? Oh yeah. Gotta psychology appointment. I wonder if I'll show up in the book she's writing! Got no choice. Must be interesting enough to be able to show up in it. Muwahaha. At this sphere, I am queen.
Hey, it's sunset! I'm gonna go bug my mom for money. So I can get a boba. (And I don't wanna use my own money.)
Bye!

xoxoxo~♥~