SO I have been using this miniscule 14 INch LCD from like, 5 years ago since I moved in May... I just switched to my big ass mofo tube I was using b4, and I spotted so many flaws in the minor color corrections I do on my pieces. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH...... KILL MEE>>>>>>>>>>>>> THe time for DeatH iS nOW, soRRoW can waIT> what?

So why is there so much hype over "my humps" by BEP's? Its ok at best. Damn its been windy, this is probably the windiest year I can recollect. Finals are coming up soon... ACT, SAT II's, society is stupid. College is now a bumpersticker prestige. You see it everywhere, the denizens of the u. s. of a who attended college hold their heads up high, adorning their vehicles with "cornell" or "vanderbilt" or "bucknell" or whatever other "institution of death" name there is. the post high school years are overrated. How are kids expected to make life decisions when they are too busy learning to live? stuck between a rock and a hard place I say.

All I can do is ponder "what is reality" right now. Having just seen Vanilla Sky (plan on seeing the original version) and Land of the Dead, my mind is enveloped (draped, hmmm) by stupid existential questions.

Damn, U R A Q T, U R A Q T, U.R.A.Q.T. Thats my new life motto.

Holy Jesus (pronounce in hispanic way :-D), I just realized my age. 17. That is an evil number........ Porque you might ask? Well, Im nearing adulthood (in years, not mentality.) The more I age, the less I retain sanity. I remeber looking at people's ages and thinking, 18? 19? That is an excrutiatingly large quantity of years (accumulated.)

So, this is kinda fun, im just typing for the hell of typing.... I want to fill some blank space and add something to my Deviant, cause I got like nooo art. Devoid of ARt. Nada. Zilche (sp?),

amm oh gut dHuu up suh....Ayyyy, I need korean text on my thingy. (im not korean. IN skin perhaps, in soul, im human.)

We all drift through life aimlessly shooting in spontaneous directions until something centers our attention. A beacon, something; something that makes our knees tremble, our hearts collapse, our eyes flutter, noses twitch, ears twang, fingers twidle, toes dance, (list goes on and on and on and on and on.)

Who is gonna be my focus???? When will I find what makes me ^^^^^^ (dont wanna type that again.)

TO hell with grammatical politeness, Spelinngg corrections, proper form, W/E man. I type how I think, and I think against the flow. My thought process would send the universe into a vortex of lascivious (i dun remember what that means but it sounds cool) -ness.

IYO (in your opinion) is this creative genius or Lazy/Careless effort? How can you put forth a Lazy effort? Lazy = Effort....

Holy god I'm old, I am supposed to be mature, thinkin about college, taking SAT seriously, and yet, I can bring myself to study for a dumbass test which doesnt assess anything besides (moola) baby. Baby baby, sleep with me, im not too young, dont bring me down, for your wearing a frown. Lets make rhyme, Ill tell you the time. It's 1 o clock in the mornin, sooner or later, Ill commence snooring.

Yay If you read all that, congrats. Meet me at my house and I'll give you a hug and a movie viewing in my theatre. Ya I'm rich and spoiled and disgruntled. When Will I be happy with life????? If I were happy with life, I'd have no reason to live. Life is STrife. Hahahaha.

Rant about love, life, loss, listerine. Cause gingevits=bad. Plaque=bad. endless swooning=bad, self mutilation=bad. Will I go to hell for not believing Jesus was super-man? If I live life with a set of morals, is that not sufficient? THe Buddhists seem to think so. I dont care I'f im being offensive its my journal, People write crazy S*** in their journals, why can't I? Sweet, David. Out. Sleepy. tired. Ooooh

I guess I feel the need to express myself in journal form, considering I have in fact never kept a journal before. I felt today was especially pertinenent to begin keeping logs of my memory, for today is one of those days I will never forget. Today is a day which shall relive itself perpetually in my mind (much akin to 9/11, my hole-in-one, the day I first went to my new (now current) school.) Cruel is God, for he likes to mess with me.
So I find myself walking to my campus center (cafeteria for you non-private-school-with-a-brand-new-cafeteria-which-feels-important-enough-to-have-a-new-title users) with two of my friends for lunch. And...
I have the spontaneous desire to reach point B via sidewalk, whereas my friends would have prefered the woodchip-rode. Five seconds following my decision to walk down the sidewalk, something smacks me in the forehead. Prepping my lungs to scream profanities, I instinctively wipe at whatever strange object latched itself to my skull. Lo and behold, it was a bird turd. Now, I dunno bout yall, but being hit in the forehead with shiot is very illuminating.
I have been in a rather "transitional" state of mind lately. I am unsure whether it's the weather, my rather dismal love life, or something in between, but being wedged between a rock and a hard place has been my home for an estimated month. Suicide, happiness, agony, joy, w/e man. I now understand there is a GOD. If there was no god, I would not have been "shatted" on. I know this being we call GOD likes to mess with me. My modern miracle. My epiphany. My revalation. I'm Douglas Spaulding on CRACK. I was resurrected through the power of feces. If you read all that, good for you, because my internal philosophical rants about life can get boring if your not hearing me. "For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn." (THIS is the definition of life.) HEMMINGWAY (sorry for misspell and really long journal entry but this is me, psycho-azn rambling spazz.