My room smells of raspberry yogurt, I’ll probably never get married or own a post box.
College shall start soon, unless some odd happening screws it all up, it happens, it does happen! Knowing my luck I’ve probably subconsciously sabotaged my efforts already, life is a substance I never seem to grip. I suppose any form of disaster or success is a benefit for it keeps my brain from stalling, the computer in my head, I am aware, truly, that it must be kept revving. It needs fuel and nothing fuels a mind as buggered up as mine as a project, like college or trying to unravel the universe, or a film.
Summer just pisses me off to be honest, to mild and completely at odds with my melancholy, I find gales and dead leaves a pleasure, don’t ask why! I shall tell you…I’m odd :-).
Once again I’ve spent all my money and now have to wait for paypal to pleasure me with my earnings, I can then satisfy my inglorious habit for tobacco, possibly one of my favorite things. To make a donation to the Peter Mears pleasure fund, for the sake of his sanity then feel free (no obligation naturally). Failing to do so; I would advise you to avoid me for 3 days, I tend to start going bald…No.. Mad! Yeh thats it.
Westminster is a tool box full of spanners!!!!
Its quarter past nine in the evening and only eight and a half hours till bed, I’m failing miserably to sleep again and no thanks to World Wide Web (pardon the rhyme). Its Wikipedia’s fault, the opium of insomniacs, a double edged sword where the inquisitive mind does revel.
Hello if you are reading this, the chances are you’re not and its just me with open office 3.0.0 wordproseccor aiding me as a therapy, offloading my head on this page momentarily, a bit of cognitive photography, precisely for a while.
Tea’s going cold