I hate everything.

I'm going to be really, really...not nice in this post.
So you know you want to stop reading here.
Really. Don't say I didn't warn you.

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It's one of those horrible days again, where you wake up with that strange pounding in your head and a really sore throat.

So I stayed home today, despite telling Sui Yi I'd give her the moral essay. Oh well. I SO was going to come to school, but I feel really bad.

No idea.

It could be because of anything.

Like the fact that:
- I'm probably not going to get my DS Lite at all
- Or if I do, it probably will be in a sucky colour like White
- I want to talk to somebody, and then I realise, who am I supposed to talk to?
- My grades are plummeting
- I hate Physics. Cause I have a menopausal bitch for a teacher who lectures us for 45 minutes straight for no reason at all. None, really.
- The hot, hot weather.
- I retch when I play the guitar now, my playing is so bad.
- The fact that all the inconsiderate fuckers who told me the ending of POTC2 even though the y know full well that I didn't know Jack Sparrow died yet. Oh, oops. Don't say I didn't warn you.
- I'm so tired, and I can't sleep at night.

So what I'm going to do is:
Migrate to Australia or US. Then I'll have my Pink DS Lite, the best physics teacher, and probably better teachers for every subject, and cool weather.

When HP7 comes out, I will finish the book on the day it is released and tell all the motherfuckers out there exactly what happened.
Serves you all right, then.

If you don't like HP, then I will go with you and watch POTC3 and accidentally-on-purpose spill my Coke on you during the show on you so that you miss the most exciting part and I'll gleefully tell you the ending after you finish cleaning up the mess on your pants.

I can't help my horrible guitar playing though. All I feel is ramming my the pointy end of my guitar into my teachers throat ala Stephanie in CSI for telling me what happened at the end of POTC. Abigail too.

Annoying insufferable jerks.

I feel like entering the MPH writing thingy, because they're advertising like crazy and the closing date is on the 31st, so that means there are not many people entering, therefore I have a bigger chance of winning.

But I still feel like a failure. I can't write. Not in an original, refreshing way, anyway.
All I can do know is churn out cliche after cliche, thanks to our education system's training.

I feel like investing more time in my music, but I still feel like I'm a complete n00b.
I can't play by ear.
I can't play with people watching.
I can't improvise.
I can't play well at all.

I cannot satisfy myself.

I feel like drawing more, yet I don't have the time.
True to what Yi Ling said, people only seem to like those boring, cliched, crayon-coloured pieces outlined with an 8B pencil.
Boring.
Unskilful.
Boring.
B&W pieces are underappreciated and overlooked.
I'd rather not colour at all than colour like an 8-year-old.

I will not conform to your tastes.

I feel like doing more layouts, but the computer hates me. Trust it to shut down in the middle of a vital step in editing.
When my layout is pink, it's too girly.
When my layout is black, it's too dark.
When my layout is blue, it's not my colour.
When my layout is simple, it's tasteless.
When my layout is complicated, it's an eyesore.

I can't keep everyone happy.

I feel like taking nice photographs, but I don't have steady hands.
My mom insists that my dad can take gorgeous pictures.
She says she takes quite nice pictures too.
She says my sister's pictures are really nice.
She says my pictures are blurry.

Thanks for the encouragement.

I feel like getting in shape sometimes, but I lack the motivation.
Some people say I'm too skinny, so I eat tons and put on some weight.
Then they say I eat too much ice cream, and cake and biscuits, so I cut down on my fat (junk food) intake.
Then they say I don't eat enough, and that I'm an anorexic.
Oh screw you, I'll eat as much as I want. I'll eat as little as I want. What is it to you?
It's my body, I can be skinny, I can be fat. Why don't you just lose that tummy and double chin before commenting on other people? Jackasses.

It sucks to be a jack of all trades.
Master of none.
Don't you feel like that sometimes?


Song of the Day:

"Make A Move - Incubus"

I will feel better after eating a bar of chocolate, playing some insipid piano pieces, taking some more blurry pictures and finish writing my cliched MPH story.

Expect the next post to be happier. I'ma get me some chocolate.