DrWorm (drworm) wrote,

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Mmmh... lunch...

Egg Salad... waffle fries... yummy. ^___^ I just couldn't help myself today, especially since Amy loaned me the money.

I have a poem to write. Using extended metaphors. I'm comparing my life to a weasel ball (y'know, those balls you can buy that move on their own and have a little stuffed weasel attached trying to, like, hump the ball or something). But not just yet... sometime later when I feel like writing it (next period... I suspect). See...the quest of the weasel is futile... he goes around in circle after circle trying to possess something he cannot grasp, until someone turns him off and takes his broken body away...

I take a certain pride in being able to make anything and everything depressing.

Arm...itches! Whaaaa... >.< Amy says it's my own damn fault... I couldn't think of a good excuse for the cuts so when she asked "How did you do that?" I just said "Razor blade". She says she's going to tattle to my dad if I don't stop... after the Everclear concerts, of course. She wants to make sure we still go to that... -__-;;

I'm kinda surprised at the fact that people notice these things. I guess today it's pretty obvious because I wrapped a purple handkerchief around my wrist... to keep 'em clean or something. But I had one person know what was going on without my even saying "Hey, yeah... cut myself with a razor."

Mmm...itchy. Scars? I dunno...

Look, see? Depressing again.

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