Dear Diary, (yeah, it's one of those entries)

Lisa came over tonight to sit around and do homework with me. I tried to write a paper and she tried to read psych. I put the emphasis here on tried. Oh don't get me wrong, we studied for a while, then we studied each other. I did manage to get a brush up on my anatomy. Which was a good thing since I missed that class last thursday.

It bothers me a bit that I skipped class last thursday. Somewhat because I did it mostly to talk to Claire, but also because it's the first time I've skipped class this semester.

Ah well, the thing with claire seems to be pretty much ended. Now the only question is how many days do I not talk to her just to prove that I can?

Maybe that's not the only thing. I can't help but wonder how somebody can carry a flame for 7 years and have it turn out not to be love. Just saying that it's a little confusing. Then again I'm not a woman and thus probably am just not getting some key aspect of this. Or maybe it's a torch in the british sense and just come all this way just to run low on juice after 7 years. Well, note to self: Candles don't last 7 years, if you have to get to the out house and back then you'd better get there in seven years because noone likes to shit in the dark.

did I just make shitting a metaphor for love? Fuck me. That's fucking sick.

And becaus I'm a nice guy I'll even answer just a couple of questions
Will I ever speak you again?
Speak me? I'm not quite sure what that is but it sounds kinky. oh wait, "speak to me" you mean?

Have I lost my mind? Beats me, If I find it then I'll let you know.
Has my heart grown cold? Dunno, lost my cardial thermometer. But I'd guess it's a balmy 98.6 degrees in there.

Iron