We're at the wake now... I'm rather bored.
I don't think writing this all down would be of any use to me.
I'm probably writing to get things off my chest. But then again, I'm not writing. Literally, I mean. Well that's just lame, Patricia.
I don't think I plan to start talking to myself.
My parents were making this slideshow of pictures my grandfather had before he'd passed away and I was in many of them.
I was a faaaat little girl. Hey, I can't be little. Okay, little as in short.
I'm finding this blogging thing a bore when I've done it more than once today. Blogged, I mean.
Oh wow, I've typed over a hundred words. I guess that's a bad thing. Shows how bored I am. A hundred isn't that long, actually.
Oh how I wish my parents let me sleep in. I would have been snoozing at this time. I can't sleep in my dad's car. Why? Oh, cos the roads are rocky. No, really. They're amazingly, pathetically, disturbingly rocky.
I'm inside the room of the place where the wake is. Get it? Never mind. Anyway, I can hear the people roaring. Laughing, I mean. Why are they laughing?
What's so funny?
The white casket?
Ha ha.
My ten-year-old cousin is drawing in his notebook. I don't see him this often. In fact, these two days = the most I've seen of him in my entire life. Do you get it? You don't have to understand this crap, you know. You can just move on. Well, his name is Justin and he has feminine facial features.
I'm having cramps now. :(
It's killable. Heh.

.iie goiinng tuu stopp lerr lahhs.
BUAIIX!!

boombox generation: