"It would be Lewis calling at three in the morning to say, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you." As if that made everything all right. As if not meaning to hurt someone must lessen the depth of the pain you had so unwittingly inflicted upon them. As if hurting someone when you hadn't meant to was not a criminal act after all. As if the aftermath ofpain was merely an incidental byproduct, like the unidentifiable remains they stuff wieners in." - Diane Schoemperlen, Language of love. what a cheesy name eh...doesnt do justice to the content/quality of the book. it echoes alot of my fleeting daily private thoughts..

arrrr... dont know why i am so tired this todayyy... fell asleep just a while ago after dropping hammy off and i can hardly bear to move around now... *lazy assed* lol i didnt even want to go to the gym with my brotherr... my triceps hurt.. thought they looked very flabby yesterday and went crazy with the tricep machine. hey its true eh...exercise ehances boobs~ sigh, that sucks fer moi... coz i think muscular backs are sexy. they say short skirts are for short people.. how come i think i look unbelivable unattractive and fat-legged in them? i can always trust my legs and boobs to kill my mood everytime i see em in outfits i happily put together. good ol' trusty body parts.

omg i hate the way my room looks now. ARGGGGG!! it really needs a makeover. i esp hate that collage of pictures hanging above my bed. I NEED NEW PICTURES! mmm MUST TAKE MORE.

said i wanted to read at least 80 books this summer (20 books a mth).. lol. but i probably only read 5(give and take 1) so far and a stack of books of magic comics. not goood. gotta pick things up a little... hopefully will read like 50.. and get started on my essay too.its due in 6 days! *shrieks* and i still dont know if i want to do JOhn Donne or shakespeare or wyatt!! nooOOOOO!!

mmm.. im tired and my rooms messy and i need a new job. *snore* (#*$_)$(# gotta call golf town.ARGH. *slits throat*

mmm gotta get rid of my textbooks... and i would already get about 60 bucks from the school bookstore for some of them.. and the novels.. shall go downtown and hunt for used bookstores to sell them to for a couple dollars each while walking around. fun fun.

i always fantasized(and still do occasionally) about the romantic notion of being a stunningly beautiful and mysterious young artist (not artitse.. whatever u spell it).. usually up in my studio apartment working, living on a lover's caress and kisses and graham crackers soaked in canned soup whenever i remember to eat.. sipping wine and laughing at parties, exhibitions, seminars swarming with fellow passionate art victims, in that only little black expensive dress i own with exotic earrings i found in some dingy store at the corner of the street, before returning home to paint maps of the bluish veins running along his hands,hips, feet, the expanse of his sweet eyes. but then again.. no one would tell you about the poetry(or lack of)of the leaking roof, unpaid bills piling up on that ratty coffee table you found at some junk yard sale, the cost of soap strands of your dark hair would find itself tangled in, your lover's tantrums, the broken furnace.. and the cold nights your finished work would sit in a dark room, untouched. unappreciated. unsold.

and here i am, spinning an old fantasy from my imagination onto a keyboard in the middle of a warm afternoon after staring at MY unused little black dress hanging at the back of the closet i just tidied... im a crappy university stupid with no artistic talents whatsoever, unwilling to admit that i will never want to lose the luxury of the level of comfort my daddy has given me... with an unattractive allergy to any form of alcohol, however refined. not to mention my lack of that "stunning beauty" and "mystery"(lol).. PLUS, im picky about some minion job at some golf store and i want 5 nice cars in the future.

haha, shut up pearle.