Shriek Elegance

When, every once in a while, when you try to log in to your online banking account, it asks you a security question that you have previously supplied the answer to, and when you forget the answer to that question. “What is your favorite fictional character?” Are you serious? I actually answered this question? Balls if I know! So I took three guesses and they were all wrong, of course. So then a new question popped up: “What did you want to be when you were little?” Well I answered once, and then I got a message telling me that my online banking has been locked and that I have to call a 1-800 number to get it unlocked. Yeah, some security system you got there, guys. I can’t even get into my OWN bank account because you asked me a retarded question that has a million answers that could change every ten minutes. This is bollocks.

Fucking 1-800 number. Totally not calling it tonight. I paid all my bills this morning, so I’m not really in THAT much of a hurry to look at my account. I just wanted to know how much I got paid.

Seriously though, what a fucking retarded question. I can’t even begin to remember what my answer was.

Y’know what’s awesome about The Birthday Massacre? Their drums aren’t synth or programation. And that’s fucking amazing. <3

In other news, I’m obsessed with Meg & Dia again. What a pair of gals.

Steph told me today that hanging out with me is like hanging out with a guy. I feel cool.

I think about a lot of scary things. How am I not depressed?

I don’t get enough sleep these days. By days I mean months.

By the way, I think I have slight depression. That’s depressing. I’m sure it’ll be gone by morning.

Guys who wear bow ties in informal situations are positively silly.

I hate being lied to.

I wish I had a glowy crayon sun floating above my head all the time. That would be so kickass.

The saga of finding cheaper hair products continues. Next experiment: La Coupe.

I need to be a better student. But I just don’t care. =|

When I have the time, I think I’m going to start posting my dreams. I’ll try to do it as soon as possible so that I can get it down before I start forgetting it.

I’m gonna go have bad dreams now.

I heard a bird chirping. It made it feel like spring. Despite the fact that it’s -14 outside.

I was doing some thinking today and I’ve decided that I’m not really happy with where my life is right now. I don’t mean socially, my friends and such are great. It’s everything else that sucks. I’m not happy with school, I’m not happy with my job, I’m not happy with the combination of the two.

When I’m not talking to Cam or Ger or Steph or Sarika or Ty or Shay or whoever, I’m just not happy.

I’m just unhappy and I don’t like that that’s where I am right now.

I don’t know why, but lately, I kind of wish I had a grandpa. Y’know, just to see what it’s like. I’m aware I technically have one, but I haven’t spoken to him in over 10 years and it’s been even longer since I’ve actually seen him. Don’t think he even cares that we exist, but whatevs. It’d be nice to see what it’s like to have a grandpa. Ah well.

I’m still really sick and I haaaate it.

My readings so far are dreadfully boring. I couldn’t even finish my English one, it was just too awful. I hope things look up.

That’s all I have time for right now.

I beat it today. I did everything 100% except for killing all of the Templars and collecting all of the flags. I couldn’t be arsed to do that. Maybe some other month. I can’t dig that ending, though.

I’m sick. Yey.

That’s all I have the energy for right now.

Not the way it should be. At all.

And y’know, I try to be the best that I can be, but nothing seems to work ever. So then we reach that point where we have to wonder if it’s even worth the trouble. Most say it isn’t. But no matter the conundrum, I say it is. Maybe I’m just a masochist, but I don’t see it that way. ‘Cause when you really love something, you go for it, right? Even if it ends up robbing you of heart and soul and everything inbetween. It’s not really your fault. I mean, it might be. For all intents and purposes, it is. I guess that contradicts my original statement. Or point.

What was I trying to say?

Well, whatever the case…

I’m not crazy. I think. Well I might be. A crazy person would say he isn’t crazy. It’s only when you can admit to the possibility that you might be crazy that you can be considered for sanity. So then which is it? Am I crazy or sane? I’ve admitted to both possibilities. Maybe I’m just a really sane crazy person. Or a really crazy sane person. Or something inbetween.

Inbetween appears to be a common trend.

So then perhaps I’m stuck in a middle ground of indecision where metaphors rule my life and there is no reality. That would suck, though. I’ve heard some pretty good things lately and wouldn’t want that to be a lie. Or maybe I’m just really paranoid. Which is possible. Just like being crazy.

Maybe I am crazy. Crazy people spout off shit like this.

My brain is going 100 miles per minute and I just want it to shut the hell up for ten fucking minutes.

I won’t say I can’t anymore, because it isn’t true. It’s not can’t, it’s not won’t, it’s want. I want to. I want to. I want to.

I want to.

I can’t shake this feeling in my stomache. And I wish I could. I just can’t stop shaking. Like a crazy person, I suppose.

No point in dreaming if my dreams just make me petrified of being awake. Which means there’s no point in sleeping. I can function without sleep, right?

I guess we’ll see. Well, you might not. I probably won’t, either.

I hope tomorrow is a better day. I need it.