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Saturday, February 18, 2006
Late again. My fingers are itching to do something artysmarty, but the inspiration to draw is lacking, and the materials for other stuff are..not in my house. And I hardly can ride to the shop in the middle of the night for it. My hair smells like yoghurt and lime. I like it. Last times I updated my blog, the posts are just random thoughts typed out. Nothing useful. No good gossip, deep philisophical thoughts, and nothing edible. I am desperate for a cigarette, but I don't think I should go outside today(night?). But if I had beard stubble, a long coat , sunglasses, and a gun I would go. I would do a little speaker in my pocket and I would let it play a semi-nostalgic-dangerous instrumental song. I would talk to myself without opening my mouth, and I would say things like " If only he had not killed my wife and kids, I would not have become the man I am now. " In a really strong manly voice. That I did not have a wife or any kids, does not matter. Because everybody would think I am a dangerous hitman, like in the movies. Yeah. That would be the coolest thing. Signing out, copy

3:09 PM; i didn't took a picture.0comment(s)

Friday, February 17, 2006
I should be sleeping. I really should. Sick and stuff, but..I DONT WANT TO.
That is out of my system now. Finally, vacation. My hair is greasy, I look pale, really zombielike. But coffee, keeps the dead going. I can't wait for Sunday, because Vincent is going to help me with my portfolio. I could kiss him for it. I will kiss him. No doubt. With tongue and stuff. Hah. You really would not want to know. And if you do, please, please leave. New template. I quite like it. But if everything sucks up later on, it will go back again, old skool style. I think this is the fever talking. Signing out, copy.

2:38 PM; i didn't took a picture.0comment(s)