So, all my slides are done. I can't say I'm completely happy with my concentration. Serves me right for procrastinating - but I am turning it in regardless. Normally, I would be like, 'Fuck it. I didn't do my best. I should take the pieces I am really proud of and work around those for next year's portfolio if I don't get into AoC, or keep them for a future portfolio', but that is not an option. My parents have been giving me money up the wazoo this whole semester, including 84 bucks for this test fee. I can't not do it.

Meh.

I'll upload the ones I like soon, when I get them back and I can find my camera. Yeah.

My life, other than that, has been going splendidly. I wish I could elaborate, as it is ready to burst out of me at any given moment, but I will refrain for privacy's sake.

For now:

<3^∞



We make a pair of parentheses.
There's plenty space to encase
whatever weird way my mind goes...

I am so sick of these fucking hipsters and their cliche "unclicheness".

To hell with Jack Kerouac and god damn Chuck Pala... yeah... you know, fuck that guy's last name too.

Don't lie and say you wanna smoke pot 'cause you think it'll help your writing. You want to do it because your life is damned boring and feels insignificantly dull without it. You want to have fun. At least be honest. Everyone who says that drugs help their creativity is lying to themselves. That's just a placebo effect you get from all the stories you hear about it, and that The Beatles did it and so did Lewis Caroll. Maybe they were just talented. You think it will expand your mind, so it "does". Gain some fucking self-confidence, you faux-pretentious twats.

Use your imagination.

/end rant

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