Mwar, har har. Lar.
My fingers hurt.
Stupid piano lessons. Stupid french class. Stupid fingers.
Stupid internet errors. Stupid video card problem. Stupid currency.
...
Stupid me.
I'm so tired. Doop.
That piano song was too hard for me, but I won't quit trying. Oh well.
If i'm too lazy to write, oh well.
You know, today I noticed my sister taking my poem and using it as her own. In her profile, it has my poem. I wasn't flattered at all. She stated that it was her poem, and not mine. She should have the decency to know that I live with her, and will know, sooner or later.
End.
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