Sunday, Jul. 07, 2002 - 8:48 p.m.

My head hurts. Just.. go away, stop making my head hurt more by READING!!! Reading.. it gives off a noise you know... I SAID STOP DAMMIT!! and.. ugh.. It'll pass, but you're not helping, with your intake of my words.. and my pain.. is.. bleh.

"Take a painkiller!" They say, but no, not me, I.. don't do that. I hate things like painkillers, they're all.. medical and.. bad. Or something. So I'll sit it out and whine and complain... and maybe go back and clean the bathroom with its wonderful chemical smells and.. ow.. anyway... STOP READING THIS!! DON'T YOU SEE YOU MAKE MY BRAIN PAIN?!

Ugh...

One day my brain will break free of the confines of me head, and kill you all. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not anytime soon, even, but... it'll happen. It will. My brain likes it not here inside my skull, it's already started to leak out of this little prison-with-too-much-hair.. and.. it's going to get you. Yess.. don't sleep at night, because the BRAIN will get you. The BRAIN will get you. The brain WILL get you. The brain will GET you. And... yes. I'll stop now.

Birds are cool, the way they move, and stuff. They're also evil, but they're cool too, and that's good. They're all hoppy and beaky, and.. stuff. I like birds, but I hate birds, and I find birds boring. Apart from birds of prey, because they just look mean, in the good, cool way. But yes. Clowns are bad. I still have a headache.

Heh.. Bob the Screaming Clown. He screams, and is Bob. A clown, also, he is. I made him up while talking to insane people. One feared him, one found him amusing. I like both of those reactions, so Bob may get a full scale adventure in here, someday. I'm writing this because I don't know why. My head hurts.

---

Hello, welcome to an entry by me.

One day, while walking down the street, a small man walked down the street. He was - tragically - very, very small, and had to avoid normal sized people's feet. After his cousin got squashed and spread all over the place, the small man was extra careful. One day, while smelling pretty flowers at a roadside, a man came up to him, and said, "Hello little man, you're very little, and I think you're a man."

This confused the small man, but he still replied politely "Yes, yes I am, and I see that you are a man, and of an average height."

The normal sized man nodded, "Average height, yes, I have my own company you know? I'm quite rich."

"Oh," replied the small man, "I'm poor, really, nobody will employ someone of my stature, and I refuse to turn to the freakshow, like the rest of my very small family."

"Poor eh?" said the taller man. "Well I could give you a job, I suppose, I own my own company, you know?"

"Yes, yes I know. That would be most kind." The small man smiled. Suddenly, a cyclist hit him and squashed him flat. He was still alive for a while, until someone stepped on him. The rich man shrugged and walked off.

-

There's no moral here that I can think of, but my head hurts, and if you read all that then I blame you personally for my headache, you're a bad BAD person. I don't know how you sleep at night without sedatives.