bah. i kind of realized i am somewhat talentless
and everything-less
err.
i mean,
im not really what i want to be.
im not really everything i say i am. or something.
im INSANE, thats what.
its like when moses finds out he's not REALLY a prince of egypt
(except a hundred thousand times less serious.)

right-o.
this is a stupid blog post.

i dont really deserve to listen to music....

i know someone who's exactly like me. she wants to be a journalistwriterthingy too except she's a billion times more competent than i am, or will ever be.

My photography instructor moved me and Eric to the advanced class. sweet. i'll probably feel really uncreative and stupid and extremely challenged among the pre-artschool students. meh. I PRETEND TOO TOO MUCH.

this Eric listens to the magik marquers... on a CD PLAYER. (this is an example of jenny's superficial over-analysis of stupid details. like the way she notices pat wearing converse shoes and thinks a lot about it.)

everyone lovehates pat because he's hot but doesn't socialize with people whatfuckingsoever.
he's a perfect weirdo.

hey did you know someone found my blog through google, AGAIN? goddamned google! GO THE FUCK AWAY, I DONT LIKE CERTAIN PEOPLE READING MY STUPID WHINY BLOG. (hence my point: that sentence was completely in caps) hmmm maybe i should just STOP BLOGGING, thats what i should do. or be completely anonymous and use a frigging pseudonym.

my mom wants me to write an entire novel by the time i finish grade 12. too bad i hate everything i write one week after i finish writing them. plus im scared of people reading my thoughts put into literary form (ew).

i kinda wish i'd been born a sciency person so i dont have to worry the fuck about not being able to earn money when i grow up. i can picture myself living in a sketchy, single-roomed apartment with a typewriter and a scratchy cot.

... no, i dont really. more like living out of a suitcase and a sleepingbag, begging friends if i can sleep at their house while i get a job.

this is too funny.

i should ask denise for that story i wrote a looooong time ago about me being a fifty-year-old lady who lives with a hundred cats and updates livejournals and has zero life.

or i should do some chemistry homework. fuck.

or maybe i should do something i should have done years ago just to SPITE DARA and make her be part of the sketchy pot-smoking crowd. hahahaha. wow i am so immature it's funny.

or maybe i should just go to frigging sleep.