This is pitiful. Jaw-grindingly woeful. In a full two hours, i have achieved that many sentences in my lit essay. No exaggeration. It would have been alright if at least i had done some planning in between; but i'm afraid the only thing i've been doing in the eras between those sentences is staring blankly at the screen. Fingers poised. Sneezing once. Blinking maybe.

*wails for return of kinder times and younger years*

I am flabbergasted! I agog with amazement that knows no dimensions! I am slightly horrified! I am sniggering indecently! I am expressing a lot more amazement than I am actually feeling! In fact right now, i have a totally blank face and drooping reptilian eyes! It's amazing what the ! key can offer to your typographical attitude!

Has this man been castrated? Because YES, he is a man (or close enough to it); he's SEVENTEEN, you heard me SEVENTEEN, i'll say it again so it sinks in annoyingly deep: SEVENTEEN!

Don't worry, he's famous, its my perogative as a brain dead and media-drenched citizen to insult him. He's Charlie- you know, from the Chocolate Factory.

I really hope they're running full steam ahead on HP production (the book and my life, not the sauce). I mean seriously, look at Draco now:


The producers are going to blow their budget on make-up artists to make 'em look their fictional age.

Oh my gosh! Rupert Grint was in a film called 'driving lessons' released in '07'! And people described his character as 'flat' and 'dull'! That's so sad :(

*laughs uproariously*

I sent a prac doc study to my history teacher. At my dramatic rhetoric:

you don't want the examiner to think you are a precocious little prat...

Hilarious! She wasn't being mean or anything though, i was being a little experimental in my language that night.... "facile incompetence of the army", the "breaker of the public's wave support was the revolution", the "fledgling democracy that never took wing and instead began the epoch of socialism. But god, it feels good using new words sometimes, exaggerating, dramatising...to escape from the mundane demotic vocab....

tee hee!

Confession: i still get confused between 'where' or 'were'. I have to actually sound it out before i intrepidly type/write it down.

My god. I am geniuinely appalled. Another inane website has cropped up, christianed "Twitter". I centres on the egotistical assumption that everybody in the world is panting to know the trivial details of your life in verb form.
I'm so happy right now...i don't know why...i just smile despairingly...
No joyous element should be cartwheeling and sparking in my being however. We have a unseen lit essay tomorrow and a chem task. And we'll probably be getting our marks back for other tests, which is even more terrifying to contemplate.
Maybe it's because of a shift in the weather. That always makes me excited, no matter how dull the result of the transition is. I mean, we're on the doomy path towards winter for gods sake.
I don't think i'd survive in a cold climate. Well, i'm sure i would physically adapt, but the frigid atmosphere seems to cast a weary pallour over my psychological state.

euurghurglespatspat. Stop temporising kate! Onward! Mush like you've never mushed before!

RED BULL GIVES YOU WWIIIINNNNGGGSSSS!!!!!!!

Opening the blinds which have previously reduced my study to a wide closet with papers and pens instead of brooms and vacuum cleaners, I experienced the cathartic realisation of how important it is to have the odd organic form around you. Just to be in touch with living things- the feather-duster pine signalling jerkily against the glass, the tree standing like an old war soldier against the wall with limbs crooked, gnarled and dismembered, the idle vine which lounges and sprawls…It’s amazing what this colour green can do to your disposition. Imagine what it would be like in the cities devoid of nature. Looking out from your yellow-white, air-conditioned office to see only man’s industrial advances, or, man’s environmental devastations…with only a bare blue sky to remind you steel and granite and brick were not the materials that built the world.
Sometimes I’m rather proud of Australia, although the thought of being a patriot is terrifying. I shall not yield and assimilate with those ridiculous zealots who fly flags in their own backyard! Preposterous expressionism. Appreciation, but not devotion is my practice. Perhaps not enough appreciation though…how easily it slips from mind that I perhaps should believe in a god just because I’m not starving somewhere in a warzone, oppressed, alienated, exploited like in some godforsaken deeps. Although the common phenomenon is the opposite, isn’t it? Repression encourages faith more than it repels it.