it's been decided that, apparently, I have swine flu. no doctors were involved with this diagnosis - instead, my mother passed judgement.

as such, I'm being a recluse, in my bedroom, writing bad poetry. boo. emo poetry, too. D: I'm such a fucking tool, haha.

anyway, I went on another one of my music downloading sprees, in which I delete everything I can off of my computer, just to free up three gigabytes of space. I then realised - there arent any other superfluous folders that I can delete. this may be the biggest shove I've received as of yet to get a job. an external hard drive is desperately needed.

I still have pictures on my camera from warped tour last july. it seems that I'm a bit of a procrastinator, haha.

fuck art, I can't do it. started drawing Oli Sykes (the lead singer for BMTH. ) and I realised that it was a fail of epic proportions, and it should never be seen again. fuck. D:

I do love charcoal though, even if it smudges me lots. ):

anyway. back to the shitty poetry.