"...details are the worst; they are just your soul eviscerated..."

I broke my fucking straight iron and my breaker keeps kicking. I live in the oldest dorm on campus (about 100 yrs old), so that probably means I'm going to end up burning the motherfucker down. I heard that it would go up in flames in mere minutes and they don't think it's worth the money to fix it up. They're just waiting until it burns to the ground so they can build a new technology center or parking lot or something.

I finally put my posters up in my room. And my pictures. I haven't taken REAL pictures in fucking eons. They're all digital and I can't print them out because I have no printer. Or computer, for that matter. Anyway, I spent about 2 hours last night sifting through every photo I had. It looks like 100 cameras were bludgeoned to death in my room, splattering all their innards all over my floor and walls. I miss so much in them.

I need a cheap ass film SLR. I liked the Canon Rebel GII well enough. Maybe I'll steal one for my birthday.

It's not that I'm not grateful for everything I have now and everyone I know. I really, really am. I just get in these moods sometimes. More and more often lately.

And I really feel that there's no one there who understands anymore (sorry Steph & Daniel).

I'm such an ass.

I'm just not into waiting for people anymore. "brb" me and I'll say, "Right. Peace out."

Patience has never been my strong suit.

Just when you think you have it all figured out, you run out of stories to tell.

Buenas noches. ;)