2:01 p.m. x 2005-07-11
my english teacher asserted that nobody in the class knows how to write. all the whopping twelve of us.
i've all ready started listening to the book much more considerately, but i don't loathe the guy. i think i'd hate both of my teachers in high school and would want despairingly to claw blood out of flesh all class, but these guys are totally disinterested. i find that, frankly, awesome. i didn't even get a real grade on my psych test (though every question was right), i just passed. "okay" it said. aaaaah, the relief!
and i can write. it's all that i do. and i can write well, it is just that i am not a very STRUCTURED WRITER. but don't be telling me, bitch, that i can't write! i'm marching over to the workshop this week, armed with fiction. if anybody gets offended...i'll go impale the sonofabitch on the damn carillon in the courtyard...
on the same vein, itunes stars out the word "molestation".
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start