Hey look a post, what a surprise.

Hey look it's a lame-ass filler post on Tuesday night, totally not a surprise considering Olivia never finishes her drawing homework when she should.

I will tell you that I had one of those shitty melancholy days where I feel worthless and constantly wonder why I'm not home with my family in bed forever. It wasn't even a bad day. I went to class. I bought peanut butter. I drew. But there was a consistent feeling of why-aren't-I-dead-yet, and it kind of killed the mood.

It's days like these I consider telling the people around me that I'm dying, just so they'll leave me alone. (I don't mean ignore me, the way they do now, or talk about me when I'm not in the room; I mean I want them to fucking stop thinking about me, because it makes them uncomfortable to do so.)

It's not a lie, anyways. Everyone's dying. Some days I just feel like I'm dying on the inside faster than on the outside.

Olivia

PS. Wow, more morbid than I would have liked. Speaking of morbidity, Christine's writing an awesome story about Russian roulette and I wish you could all read it. She's a fantastic writer.

I have pastel all over my fingers. Now also all over my keyboard.

That's nothing new.