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  • Problematic

    My friends are problematic. I don't understand. I don't understand why they can't get along. I don't understand what they think I can do about it. But I hate being stuck in the middle. I guess I put myself there.

  • Wall

          I spent all night fixing my wall. I had a tack hammer and it was amazing. I don't have any left. I still haven't gotten any vougues but when i do i'm gonna fill up my other wall. I think I met the smartest kid in the world yesterday. He told me he wanted to read my poetry and I just don't think i can let him do that. I've only shown it to Ingrid. Whatever. I keep having dreams about dancing. Dancing in dresses. They're nice dresses but random dreams. I startede off thinking i would show this blog to anyone who asked but i think i would be more comfortable if no one read it.
          I always tell my friends to not complain, you see. I say something very amazing like 'you know there are farmers starving in ghana' or 'well at least your village hasn't been burnt down by death squads, forcing you into a concentration camp where you will be shot if you attempt to find food'

          The downside of that though, is that when I feel like complaining, I can't without sounding seriosly stupid. Unless, that is, nobody reads it.

  • Wall

          I spent all night fixing my wall. I had a tack hammer and it was amazing. I don't have any left. I still haven't gotten any vougues but when i do i'm gonna fill up my other wall. I think I met the smartest kid in the world yesterday. He told me he wanted to read my poetry and I just don't think i can let him do that. I've only shown it to Ingrid. Whatever. I keep having dreams about dancing. Dancing in dresses. They're nice dresses but random dreams. I startede off thinking i would show this blog to anyone who asked but i think i would be more comfortable if no one read it.
          I always tell my friends to not complain, you see. I say something very amazing like 'you know there are farmers starving in ghana' or 'well at least your village hasn't been burnt down by death squads, forcing you into a concentration camp where you will be shot if you attempt to find food'

          The downside of that though, is that when I feel like complaining, I can't without sounding seriosly stupid. Unless, that is, nobody reads it.

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