*head desk*

i am unreasonably grumpy when i'm sick, and it is just by pure luck that i don't get sick often. it is seriously painful talking to me when i'm in one of these sickness induced moods, because once i've give my fair share of cynicism i suddenly feel guilty for making others feel crap and so become all jokes and border on the point of an over-enthusiastic puppy that can't sit still. it also seems to increase the amount of sarcasm i use, or it just makes it more obvious. so this is my apology to the fine ladies that i work with that i bestowed this treatment upon today, i really am sorry. i am also really sorry that i will probably be like this tomorrow aswell, it'd only get worse if i try to repair my character quirks. peace out.

ground control to major tom, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong, can you her me major tom, can you hear me major tom, can you hear me...

oh god... spent the last hour watching dominoes and Rube Goldberg machines... if you do have 10mins to waste...
domino day championships ARE AMAZING, i just wish i could speak more german that "gutne tag! Wie gehts dir?" "Ich bin muede" "du sind lustig!""Aber das ist nicht meinen Hamburger" and now i can't remember the gender of a hamburger... i'm sure it's an 'it'. erhem... marbles!

excuse the advertising, but i couldn't pass this one up.

call me when you think of a better reason, a grander excuse, a more plausible lie. standing here trying to think of when it became like this, when it got so hard to soak-up your words and reply with something civil. is it merely bitterness gumming away at my patience and good nature? can this bitterness be passed off as "merely bitterness"? or is it something greater lurking in the folds of my mind and time? you seem to talk about the gray areas around the corners of your eyes a lot less these days, i wonder if they've gone or if you've just become desensitized to their lingering presence. does it ever really ever go away? i'm angered by your refusal to talk to me like we use to, like we do in the mesh of my memories and fantasies. i'm sick of the "i just feeling tired today" excuse from you everyday. i never use to get sick of you at all, i loved our conversations and for that to fade into passing words it breaks me. it shatters me into pieces so small i don't know if glue could help, or i'd just become a lump of glue, ready to stick myself to the closest object and just hope it's you. it'd probably be a computer, or a television or a fridge. and i'd be left to gourge myself in lies of my own. i don't want you to call me when you think of a better reason, i just want you to call me back...

i want to lock it? all up in my pocket? it's my bar of chocolate? give it to me now...

been in sydney for a week, family holiday. and thought it sounds ungrateful to my mum, i don't really like holidays, i'm probably too lazy anyway to really appreciate them. and besides their world known tourist attractions (yes, the sydney opera house IS incredible, i'm just sour because we didn't get to watch anything playing) and double decker trains (i know! wtf?), sydney still doesn't beat melbourne. not that i'm in for the interstate bickering over who is better. anyways... i think thats enough of that. thought trail died off. oh well
keep on keeping on