I was sitting in my Kitchen;
Stealing glances at the low quality programing on Sunday night television.
When Harrison said this to me in reference to someone we both have a strong distaste for:
[00:24] xharrisonxcorex: and that's only what I say
[00:24] xharrisonxcorex: if this were 500 years ago in the woods or something
[00:24] xharrisonxcorex: there'd be nothing to say
[00:24] xharrisonxcorex: he'd be dead

I thought I would share that with you because even rereading it today makes me laugh out loud.

I took my own photograph today only because I liked the way I had styled my hair. The style was something I had never done before and I want to be able to look back on the photographs to remind myself of what I am capable of aesthetically. I do not consider myself a beautiful or attractive person but at times I find myself in a terrible rut and longing for some sort of reassurance. Do not take my previous statement as a request for compliments or reassurance. For compliments would be unwelcome and embarrassing from those who only wish to boost their own "feel good" meter by lying to someone they have never really seen or listened to. I am not a mean person. I am not a snobbish or pompous person. I simply do not appreciate sugary words molded to caress my seemingly deflated ego.

I have smoked too many cigarettes today. Smoking too much always makes me feel  gluttonous and out of control. Which leads to an inevitable combination of melancholy and self loathing. I despise how addicted I am to cigarettes. I look forward to having one in the mornings, I think I will have one now actually. I am trying to break this habit with little success.
I have been pacing between the chair I have been perched upon and the window where my addiction is burning.
I blot a sentence or two then rise to get another taste.
I have grown tired.
I apoligize for the poor and trivial nature of this blog
But I am simply not in a very profound mood tonight.

I am watching The Price is Right and I am almost sure that the girl in the blue shirt has just grossly overbid.
Sophie, let us just call her Sophie because her features are just as soft as the name implies, is timid and well mannered but you can see extreme excitement in the every twist of her conrtoled movements.
She is very young, 18 maybe 19 years old.
I was right. Sophie has just overbid.
Sophie's new bid seems to be more sensible.
Sophie is making her way on stage with her hands clasped over her left thigh, turning to the crowd for some misguided reassurance.I am not sure why because we all know that the audience never knows anything.
It took Sophie less time to lose her new kitchen set than it did for Mr. Barker to explain the rules of the game.
When Sophie makes her second appearance on stage to spin the wheel, Sophie spins second.
The first woman spins twice and exceeds $1.00.
The wheel does not rotate to a full spin. Sophie is incredibly embarassed.
Sophie's cheeks blister and she takes another attempt to spin the wheel.
Sophie plays it safe and stays at $.45.
A bubbly, over weight, afroed women spins the wheel and lands on $.50. The bubbly woman stays and Sophie goes.
Poor Sophie.

I am bored. The price is right is terribly boring. Especially when the person you are pulling for is sent packing. I should have been able to hear Sophie's actual name but I am listening to music instead of listening to the show. Now the news is coming on. I do hate the news it is always so depressing.

The previous entry was finished by Harrison Smith. I do not resolve to become a better person through copious amounts of "buttsex".
I did not delete the entry because I wanted to have a solid reference for when people ask me why I killed him.

This year I resolve to become a better person through copious amounts of buttsex

If I could compile the various ways one describes confusion into a single list
this said list still would not contain the proper word to describe how I am feeling.
I feel as though I am depriving you of the full scope of my interior by telling you that I am simply confused
because these feelings are more than mere confusion.
It is a variety of feelings and inadequacies melded into one monsterous feeling that nags and pulls in my stomach.
Do not misread this and enevitably conclude that I am, infact, miserable.
I am any thing but miserable.
I am just poor at deciphering the proper manner in which to identify and solidify these feelings
Disolving them would be the next sensible step
But I cannot dissolve without identification.