we are all born mad. some remain so.

"swing swing swing from the tangles of... my heart is crushed by a former love..."

i stare at my books and wonder why im doing all these.

who's gonna be there 10 years down the road asking yu to integrate y=xlnx by parts?
who's gonna be there 15 years down the road asking yu to tell them that wind erosion in deserts occur only below 1m ?
who's gonna be there 20 years down the road asking yu to analyse a poem by some guy who has died bi-zillion years ago?

but every year everyone studies everything. all slog through all this shit. and im just gonna be another one of them.

nuff said. today's paper was full of careless mistakes. now to see how more ugly i'll die for the rest of the papers...

with any luck, i'll look like this at the end of the year.