that past entry was... hmm. interseting, when read back. it was to myself, which was made unclear, following an entry in the [another] journal. my face feels like vinegar, it's 0543am, and i've just finished another image for [talkingclock]. oh yay. well, today's been completely uneventful... played on the computer and watched Spongebob all day. my head's really hurtin' right now. gaaah. well, g'nite mr. journal fuck.

it alarms me to think that the creator of these words actually formed the images put on display at [talkinclock]. well, 'cept one, which is so obviously in the style of [boy]. even that one, though, still feels like a soft version of [another]'s old skethes. well, i love it, and i love the fact that i love it, yet i don't love the fact that i love the fact that i love it, 'cause that's a little too much lovin'.

these words, btw, do not in any way reflect my apparent state of mind at this precise moment in time. if you were to ask me a question right now, in person, i could only reply with a dumb-founded 'whuuhhhrgh, u-heh-he-heh'. well maybe. i'm tired.