xtoolfreakx's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- �.avoid.leakage.of.fluid.� The smell of school is still on me. The halls have this weird dusty smell to them. When it's hot, the classrooms feel like you're in an attic during the summer - you can see the little particles of dust floating around. I was telling someone today about how I hate Christmas. It's the same songs over and over again every damned year. Yes, it's tradition - I know this, but still. Can't they throw a new one in there every now and then to get out of this 'tradition' mode? It couldn't possibly be that hard. And it wouldn't over-turn the world, would it? Huffing can be addictive. I've come to the conclusion that there's really nothing to say. For one - my day really wasn't that eventful. It was boring and it dragged on for too long. And here it is - 4pm - and there's still more of it to go. Perhaps I can converse with people later, after all, it is a weekend. It can't stay boring for too long. "We're never where we want to be. Trapped here in hostility..." 3:43 p.m. - 2002-12-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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