Okay. Stop boring me and just kill me now.

The fact that I am writing in a blog that has lost half of its readers due to some delusional Days of Our Lives bullshit is a testament to how bored as shit I really am. Easter Sunday has never had a legacy of being a wonderful time. Although I admit that there was a certain comfort in celebrating the day here at my grandmother's for the first time since our great grandmother past away, the celebration felt more like: "Okay, come sit down and eat lunch... and then return to being yelled at by your mother about something that never happened."

I feel like I've done nothing but drive my ungrateful mother around all weekend, that and thrash my already bruised and sore body around like an idiot. This all leads up to a day of me doing nothing but sleep and watch History channel. I think my time moshing is over. The kids that hang out at the front of the stage and do nothing all night but get their picture taken might be on to something, as I'm sure they don't require an entire day of sleep to feel like a human being the next day.

I have a great deal of homework left. I haven't even touched my police report. I need something fresh, new, and exciting to recapture my spirits and get me involved in what I'm doing again. After I get my car fixed I'll just sell it to some kid. There's only a month left of the semester. I might still have money to move after I sell the car. The trick question is figuring out where to transfer next... too many options. Too little time. Story of my life.

- Nicholas

I guess so!

Samantha i just wouldn't know how to go about hitting on you.i would be like really nervous if i ever attempted it

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I swear man, the last few weeks have been such a boost to my self esteem. Like, I don't think there's really anything that can top this.

You can do it. You have awesome installed as an automatic feature!

Always remember that you were born a champion. You were the fastest sperm. God hates winners, and that's why he made life Hell. So climb the tallest mountain and punch God in the face. Yours is the drill that will pierce the heavens.

Be a legend. Fight until you die. Piss down the throat of fear with the power of courage, and your name will live forever.

It took me a week to find God.

He was staring at me through the mirror, his ebonlock hair wrapping around against his neck in perfect curls that hung below his shoulders. His big, bright hazel eyes penetrated the sphere of my existence and I heard his voice shout unto me - and he said, "Peace is a dream, and dreams are for sleepers."

I am awake. I am alive. I haven't breathed the stinking hot air of the truth in so long, if I ever really had before now at all. I have no sadness. I suffer no loss. I am not surrounded by the weak, the fools, the dogs that bark but never bite. I am not helpless. I am not alone, but I am on my own. The wasteland is vast. And at night while the weak are sleeping, sleeping in their dreams of peace - I am watching their cities burn.

It feels so beautiful sitting by myself out here in the cold.