Mamarati

that is the question…

no way of knowing for sure.

Drives me nuts when I want to spew forth what some probably illiterate, bad-grammar stricken teenager wrote to me recently and called “childish stories” and “unintellegent writtings.”

So in my childish nature, I forwarded it to Kim and we had a good laugh over it.

At any rate, I’m moving back to the upscale OD, just because it seems to work somewhat more reliably… and because I’m fickle like that.

So come over there and enjoy my childish writtings. And if you are a police officer, please don’t come lock me away for what I’m sure you will consider suicidal thoughts… (another warning from the teenage diary critic)

The irony is so rich, there… I’m about as far from wishing myself dead as I have ever been in my life.

I’ll have to write about that. I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately (provoked by another book, the chamber) and Jacob and I spent a few hours walking around a cemetery yesterday and had quite a talk about death…

More on that later, I need to get ready for work and call the IRS.

And if you don’t feel like traveling over there to read me, I’ll update over here with those entries periodically like I used to do with my old shit… Always nice to have a backup, I guess.