the life i lead.

i'm cramped.
my lower back hurts.
my right calf feels really tight, so i can't walk without a limp.
i've got 8 more sketches to do for art's "view frm below", originality of the topic, is pretty much lackin.
i'm feelin a sense of dread for tmr's lit test, and i'm not sure WHY.

its like,
life has suddenly felt so indominable and strange.
another bubble of which i breathe in.

i should be doin my geog tutorial, which i WILL.
and the inpending doom of the art history test is practically gnawing at my consciousness.

calvin is spending time with a guy,( i would gladly severe all ties if i had a choice) at the gym (to renforce their machoism, WHICH is sadly at stake. one heads to taiwan to do saikang and another has become an administrator in an airbase), while i rot my ass off scribblin scribbles of nonscensical notions of wad cambridge deems as fundamentally correct.

the company is probably sittin at the national stadium.. (is the destination correct?) watchin the All Blacks run around and doin their maori thing.))): the tickets are not to be mine. my bad. /: but thanks elvis for the efforts. haha.(:

i'll say.

this life,
is a good life.

p.s: (ting xi) thank god u decided to keep the blouse. or u'd haf to kill me to get back urs.