i had a dream last night that was so frightful, it actually made me consider quitting bitching (though bitching's not something i do in all consciousness). i found a gun in grandpa's drwer and it was empty, but when i played with it, it went off, almost shooting uncle leonard. grandpa came out of the room, looked at me - he was furious. and he took out a big hammer and told em that he wanted to kill me so badly. the fear was so real, so horrific. then i saw granny; she was bitching bout me and she kept saying things that weren't true. i tried to defend my case but mummy was there heeding all granny said. i woke up when i heard the clinking plates in the kitchen.

so i didn't have a good rest. when to sch fatigued; head ached and stomach cramped. just before i snoozed off at 6 just now, i was conjuring up a story my head. i don't know why i do this, and sometimes i wonder if other pple do the same - i imagine a fictional situation comprising me and someone i know. and then i'll make it sad and i'll cry and stuff. then i fell asleep, feeling down and dejected. woke up with a headache... again.

my head's still killing me, so please excuse the lack of verve and emotion in my writing.

a yr in mcm has passed, yet i feel inadequate in terms of skills. is it just me? i feel like writing another song. ouch... head pain. guitar been collecting dust. i hope i don't fall into another tepid pool of nothing again. i need a good book to read. hmm... City of God? nah... too long. better sleep now. blah dee dah. demain, je me lève tôt - 6 heures et demi! uh...