broken pencil.

like one, at least.
war, that is.
pointless.
i just watched "saving private ryan" last night.
to be perfectly honest, i cried for bout half an hour. no joke.
i mean, what is war always about?
more land, more power, more people, the right to oppress, the right to dominate, the right to kill. in other words, nothing.


argh, my throat hurts, but i've already taken three times the recommended dose of cough drops. two per two hours, apparently. ha. haha. ha.


kati darling, are you still alive? you haven't commented this here blog in a while.


clothes are such a waste of time. honestly. i mean, if i'm at home with my family and one girl here, why in the world can't i wear a tank top? oh, that's right, my shoulders and a little back show, which is, of course, completely immodest and skanky, so that cannot be allowed. gosh.


i'm so glad i live in an unbroken home. whatever the heck defines broken or otherwise.


and...i'm done.
my throat hurts.


"we're all right where we're supposed to be.
we're all right we're supposed to be.
we're all right where we're supposed to be.
we're all right we're supposed to be.
this door is always open.
this door is always open.
no one has the guts to shut us out.
time means nothing."
-we are scientists, after hours
look it up, fools.