It’s 18 minutes too late, but…

happy birthday to mee
happy birthday to mee
happy birthday, happy birthday
happy birthday to meee.

yeah. i can flip my age back and forth now and it’d the same. pretty rad.

The most important people in my life wished me happy birthday today, and i can count how many did. In actuality, it feels that much more fulfilling than having a bunch of people wish me happy birthday on something retarded like Facebook. Strength may only be a manifestation of numbers, but it’s the quality of the numbers that matter, not the quantity of output.

And I got a spankin’ new computer tower that looks that much more awesome (to only me, apparently) compared to my old, ugly one. Finally.

it’s too quiet

even if you pray your life away,
even if you study until your mind becomes the next manifestation of a tomb,
even if you try to love someone from head to toe, straight to the teeth and sliver of the bone,
even if you aim at that target for hours to get that one bullseye you wanted,
even if you buy the most expensive bag, electronic, toy, or whatever the fuck you like,
even if you tan yourself until your skin reeks of melanoma,
even if you watch the million hours of hopeless romantic movies or gut-lashing action,
even if you fuck everything that walks,
even if you write novels and novels of what you perceive is the most useless shit you’ve ever worked with,
even if you abused yourself until you found ecstasy,
even if you work your muscles until you’re about to eviscerate from sheer exhaustion,
even if you lick the asses of your assets like you’re on an M&M binge,
even if you earned those extra 2046 points from that quest you completed on Wednesday,
even if you cut yourself until it bleeds buckets, you fucking masochist,
even if you fake smile until your lips bled mercury,
even if you clean your house like gutting a squirrel from inside out and inverting its skin,
even if you try to live the most honest life you can possibly live like a fucking fool,
even if you sleep your life away,
even if you drop everything to make that killing,
even if you ramble on for hours,
even if you already sold your soul to the devil,
even if you’re dead,

sometimes you’re just that invariably invisible to the world.


so i’m not normally attracted to men, (keyword, not normally), but i have to say i have suddenly developed a man-crush for this guy.

i have no idea. normally someone like that would be annoying as fuck. to top it off he’s not even real.

does that make me bisexual? don’t get all flashlight-excited, now. i never said i was fabled “straight-as-an-arrow”, but i’m certainly not by any means close to the other side of the spectrum.

i mean, c’mon. seriously? wouldn’t you?

i think it’s the hair-cut and his shear air-headedness. maybe even the fact that he’s, judging by the comments on youtube, the “perfect boyfriend for the stereotypical Opera watcher”. maybe as far as to say he loses his virginity at the age of what, 30 something?

No, that’s not why I like Japanese girls.


yes. i’m more envious than attracted.

i’m lonely. am i honestly confessing a crush of a bunch of digital pixels? a male one at that? i’ve had too much studying. and too much lone time for my own sake.

and what the hell happened to his thumb?

now that i look at it more… the person who made their female PC dayum hawt.

dear god. i need a life.