Sick ; . ;

I've been told I think too much about a lot of things. Perhaps it's true, but it doesn't alter the fact that I can't help myself. I think about things and it tends to make me sick inside; especially when I think about love, romance, and relationships in general. *bluh*

My love for you will never cease
It haunts me now, a dread disease
Gnawing away, my time, my mind
Stop the pain, my soul, I'll sign
The dawn is breaking on my sleepless eyes
This heart, these breaths, filled with sighs
I say, "Perhaps I'll find the cure,"
But my weary heart is still unsure
A minute, a second, the time just slips away
I stall, I pause, screw up the courage to say
Nothing

Post query: why are all the cutest girls -
1) dating someone else
2) not interested in me
3) conspiring against me to make me sick and kill me via ulcer
(I may have made up the last one)

I ain't no dinosaur

Just finished a wonderful book a friend gave me. "The Last Lecture," by Randy Pauche. Pretty good, in my opinion, but to be honest, I have read books that were better written.
But in and of itself, perhaps this is something to be marveled at; the author (or lecturer in this case) was human, and this was possibly the best portrayal of humanity from someone who is just a man. Not a writer, not an orator of great renown, but a man.

As for the comic itself, well, I'll admit I do dress like a poor emo kid from time to time (I can't help that the majority of my wardrobe is dark colored), but I would hope that my demeanor would dissuade anyone from harping on me for my apparel.

One final note, my spelling isn't always completely atrocious. But that's mostly due to the fact that words that are wrong have helpful red squiggly lines under them.
Thank goodness for computers <3