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My diary, my space, my rights. Don't like what you see? Feel free to hit that little X up there. Thanks.
those days . .
...written on 2003-06-24, @ 12:49 a.m.
sometimes, i feel as if i was so much smarter when i was younger.
i used to make elaborate paper houses while i would wait for my father to finish up his work. they were all pop-up, made from yellow lined tear off pads.
glue and staples. yeah. roman columns and cars parked out front. some of them had little gazebos with pools and tennis courts . . .
i'm thinking . . . i don't want to keep the archives anymore. they're too detailed for me.
i think - i don't want to write anymore. my secrets all open for others to see.
my left eye - looks as if a capillary has broken, in the bottom left corner. i should go see an opthamologist tomorrow or so. i'm not sure if its stress related. but i know i failed that damn test. and i studied so damn hard too . . .
i think i should stick to my theory of not studying so hard and getting a B . . . studying a little bit and getting an A . . .
narf.
two more tests to go. . . one regular one . . . one final exam.