Swimmin' hole.

Contrary to popular belief, Tiesto is not, in fact, "the besto".

I can't really type on this laptop, so I'll keep this short.

Saturday was the best day I've had in weeks. I really needed it.
"Next! What do you want?"
"World peace!"
"Ahh will ya fuck off, you're barred."

If I go to college, I won't have a car anymore. This dstresses me. What kind of incentive is that to do well, eh? Opinions/ideas/guidance?

"I don't ever want to hate you,
It's not part of the plan.
So keep your charm where I can't see it,
And your hands where I can."

The Day We Caught The Train.

I'm so fucking sick. Of being sick. And being bored. And worrying about college. And sitting at home. And going to work. And the Internet not working. And my room not being tidy. And not being able to study. And my Xbox not connecting. And FarmVille being a complete and utter douche. And neglecting this blog.

But alas, no longer will the latter be a problem. For I will rectify my tardy ways.

It's fookin' hot in here, it is.

I want it to just be Saturday now, so I won't have to think about any of these things. And everything'll feel right. And I can stop sounding like such a little bitch. And I can stop saying 'and'. Fifteen times so far, not bad goin', boi.

"And just like the movies, we play out our last scene. You won't cry, I won't scream."

I finally finished The Book Thief, (I know, I'm a disgrace) and I wish I hadn't. It was sad, not altogether unexpected, but sad nonetheless. Poor Rudy.
"He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world.

She was the book thief without the words.

Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain."

And I'm off, bringing my and count to 22, in case you're interested. Ch'after, boii.

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death.

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

Procrastination is the thief of time.

I think I might have started studying today. I really don't know though. What does studying feel like? This is all new to me.

School is killing me, of late. Fer srs. Three classes of the head today and yesterday. "Haaam, c equals f lambda." Ugh.

Cannot write blogs atm. Giz a bitta inspiration?

"You'd be way better off with beer."

I love Pa Moore. Toughest second year ever, boi.
"Pa, I heard a rumour you can fight three people at once, is that true?"
*Laces into the nearest three people.*
". . You're a machine, Pa."