It's Valentines Day. How depressing. If I see one more television show about chocolate, I'm going to be ill.
So, I'm sick. Mono-tastic. Not that any of you care.
I've been making far too many wishes lately. Have any of you ever done that? "I wish this, I wish that!" and then the logical part of your brain gets mad at you. "Geez, stop being such a whiney moron." And then you get sad. But for some reason, you can't stop wishing or dreaming. Those dreams, no matter how awful they are, are all you have to grasp onto. Those wishes and childish hopes are the only reason you get out of bed, even if you know you will go another day with them remaining unforfilled. I have a super special wish. It's never going to come true, but by golly I'm not going to let it die. I'm going to keep wishing and wishing, until it either comes true or kills me. In the mean time, I have other, more realistic things to dream about. Well...maybe realistic isn't the right term. Realistic in comparison to my special wish. Sometimes, at night, I am sad, but I remember my blog from a while ago. I was rambling on about truth. I'm always going to have my truth.

Eeeeeek? What's happening to me? When did I become such a disgusting ditz? Dear oh my. I do appologize. Normal service will be resumed as soon as Kat gets her mind sorted out. So...not for a while. In other, much less sappy news, I am the proud new owner of a discman. Now I can go to the park and listen to music and draw and swing and gaze at the sky. I would make a general invitation, but no one ever seems to want to join me in my domain. Oh well. Again, feel free to come visit. We can share a drink called lonliness, but it's better than drinking alone.
I stole that line from "Piano Man" by Billy Joel. My appologies. Please, Mr Joel, don't send your lawyers and their Copyright documents to my house to murder me. Please and thankyou.