well I, I went to buy myself a handgun, why'd you think man, to shoot down everyone

I think I like that drawing but then everytime I see it I pick out another thing that's wrong with it. That's just how artists are though right? Never completely satisfied with their own work...

I've been writing random shit. Just kind of felt like it for no apparent reason, I would have written more but I got distracted and had english homework...

I remember my childhood in third person

Lived out my memories through your diction

Abused teachers alike, snapping rulers for the sound

Counting milk teeth and copper coins

Syllables may sting my lips as they escape through my teeth

But in my old habitat they were coaxed out of hiding

Clouds were hidden behind faded pages

Whilst yelling by the soon-to-be sirens gave me tinnitus

Everytime I picked my soles further off the floor

Than my sloping gait would allow

I'd fall to the sound of hollow laughter

It was all skin deep, but my skin is made of seven layers

A lot more than you would stop to think

Well I never remember more of you than your pale bare feet

Can only catch glimpses of your fiery hair

Sit in trees and pretend to be five again

Stand in streets and watch shadows pass

... I haven't even proof read that yet, I probably should. Oh well. He would probably be able to form something slightly more coherent from that than I could so I'll just leave him to mess around with it.

I got all reminiscent you see. Primary school was a bit of a harsh time for me. And then when things seemed to get better at school, my family ended up ripping its seams... It was just a while since there was a time where I felt properly content. But oh well, you learn to live with shit.

And I'm happy now, I am.

I'm even almost sadistically happy when things go wrong. I feel bad for it but everyone needs a bit of chaos don't they? When things become too routine you forget what it means to be happy, you're just stuck in a rut of repetition.

I like extremes but I think at the moment I've managed to find a pretty good balance. My neuroses catch up with me sometimes causing ridiculous overreactions, crying at retarded shit, you know the sort. But it's okay, it's okay, I'm normally (mostly) sane.

It's better when you appreciate the small things.

Like bus rides and getting away with sleeping in class and sunshine and hugs from friends and a smile from him or a nicely timed remark from someone you thought you'd lost a long time ago.

I like looking at things differently. I guess that's why I like photography.