Who cares what I think. Who cares what I wear (okay, actually I get a lot of reactions to my closet, so obviously a lot of people).
Who cares what I do at Uni, except for my teachers and sometimes my mum. NO FUCKING ONE.
But then I remembered that I am not doing this for other people. I do it for myself (and a itty- bitty bit for other people).
I know, I know, CLICHÈ, she's doing it for herself. Ugh. She is, though, so fuck you, I guess. This is like a documentation of what I'm doing for me and whoever wants to know.
Well, not everything I'm doing, I did shitloads last month and shitloads of stuff happened and I made new friends and retrieved old friends and smoked a lot of pot and I was with my sister and I was in Copenhagen and in Sweden for the first time of my life (and I did not post about it at all). I started drawing again thanks to new friend. I even started playing guitar again for half an hour, thanks to myself.
I ate a lot of chocolate, I bought a lot of wool, I did not clean up my room. The usuall and so much more. This was a very eventful month and a very feely-touchy kinda month. I cried and laughed and I did not film myself crying because I still don't have a computer. My harddrive broke.
Whatever I did last month. I don't have anything to show you. This is one of my very rare text-only posts. Do with it what you will. I'm gonna eat cake today.
Here's a song: