Here I am, once again at Kenny's house, blogging away because he's sleeping and I'm bored. Not "Oh, I'm just a little bored" but FREAKIN' BORED.

It's so hot because his air-con's not working well, my bladder's bursting because his family's in the living room and I'm too shy to go out, the lights are off and I'm going to go blind from staring at the lit screen, and I think I'll just content myself with a little more grumbling.

I have to say, I feel a little neglected sometimes. But that's just me, it's no one's fault except my own. I am just too goddamn sensitive and relient on everybody else. I contemplated not bringing the phone out for one whole day, but found that the group's calls and messages are too important to me. How weak-minded of me.

Anyway, on a lighter subject, I recently acquired lots of cuts and bruises on my arms. Two bleeding cuts on my left hand courtesy of my lovely Cash (the grey right above my tagboard), one long shallow scrape down my left arm and a dep cut on my right, courtesy of me FALLING DOWN THE STAIRS. Yea you heard me, I freakin' fell down the stairs. Bruises courtesy of the scrapes, and a few on my legs from kicking the goddamn safety bar of SSDC's lovely bikes.

I like the song From This Moment, but I don't bloody want to hear it. Don't ever let me hear it, because it makes me think of things I don't want to think of.

Woah, I sound so feisty!

Gotta run now, gotta wake up the pig and run off to meet Anthony for dinner. See ya!