Jess Stem

There's something particularly haunting abt jessica stam. As everybody says, it's the eyes.
But I think its her thin lips and ridiculously sharp nose.

She looks like a (hot) witch.

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There seems to be nothing ever to talk about.
It's either that I'm not thinking or that there's nothing to think, or it could also be possibly that I'm always so easily distracted by the things around me.
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You know I think by thinking, its already a form of mental block.
I think of how to write I think of how to dance I think of how to conform I think of so many thoughts that the brain has no space to carry out the action and yet again without thinking, what're you gna do next?

Ytd I felt (technically from current time, 2 days ago) that I wrote a really good composition but it wasn't executed well. SURGE OF DISAPPOINTMENT AHH.
And then yet, I shouldn't think abt it.

All of us shouldn't think and everything should be done instantaneously.
It would be kinda exciting wouldn't it? Our lives, no organisations or plans. There are downs but there wouldn't be stress and contained thoughts.
I want to fully grasp life properly now.I might die tmr so I shouldn't focus on my studies and try decontrolling my bladder now and experience a wet mattress.
Or I could try counting every dust particle in the light. Or I could try cracking my nose knuckle.
Grasp Grasp Grasp.

On a random note, I want to blame someone for puberty, zits and sebum and odour and period. I dowanda live with it, panicking whether I leaked, panicking over whether my face is smooth infront of the person I go wobbly infront of, panicking over whether I'm the cause of that stale smell hanging in the air.
OR
I could just run about painting the town red, use my face friction for generating heat or starting a fire in the woods and neutralise the annoying smell of strong perfume in departmental stores.

Think about it, puberty for the greater good.
And one day I will create turbines on cars to generate their own energy. For the greater good.

Peace out, glyn

And farting must be the sound of getting ideas.
-Jason Mraz

Where're my ideas?!

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Tricia lost blood, I lost tears.



Tdy, me and julia practiced a new dance move, "The Clock".
Quite an accomplishment cause I ain't got no dancing bones.

My ma said I look strong but weak as a twig inside.

My Ideal Boyfriend

makes you feel all fuzzy and warm all over.