i won't go on about my continuous struggles with nicotine, or my lack of creative impulse, or even about how i woke up the other morning to find a dead bird on my bed, although that's interesting. maybe i'll discuss kb some other occasion; heaven knows i need to spill guts on that after 22 months of silence, indolence, and abstinence. i'll skip the bit where i didn't make the bright eyes show because my friend was in the er. and there's also mv and i. or rather, there's mv way over there and i, who perpetually adores her from afar. good diary stuff, there.

i won't write a poem
about how i feel so alone
i won't sing a verse
to reveal my heart's darkest curse
instead i'll confess
that which i most need to express

instead, i'd like to use this space to pray to the ether to grant me the nerve to buy a 15.4-inch core 2 duo macbookpro. that would be really awesome. thank you. kiss kiss.

[Editor's Note: The entries which follow this (or precede it, depending on which direction your reading preferences swing) are all taken from the author's previous diary. Thankfully, prior to an unfortunate episode - induced by severe intoxication, a break-up, a missing pair of chopsticks, and the disappointing results of Arsenal vs West Ham - wherein the site's edit-/delete-entry function received excessive abuse from the author, five years of content had been painstakingly preserved by our staff. The author has granted permission to republish this content, on the grounds that the entries maintain their original chronological formation while at the same time obfuscating the names of characters and key places referenced therein, including the author's previous pseudonym. This we have done.]