Tyler (the other one from the east coast): Houseguests suck. If you really want to have a no-hassle clean up job, just section off half the house. They don't need to use bathroom anyways. And when they start to really reek, hose them down and wash em with Lysol. Lots of Lysol.

Ah, if only.

Since it's summertime I figured that I could go get some of that summer reading off of my chest. And no, it's not the required reading for AP Lit/Comp next year (although I probably should get started on that...) but it's all the stories online that I've been meaning to read religiously.

Recently I've been reading Comicality's stories. Even though I'm now older than all the boys in his stories, but when I started reading his work I was their age. Damn, been there from the beginning... Five years already?

It seems like the only time I have to work on my art pieces are at night. The rest of the family is always up and about during the day that I have no time to myself since people are so keen to ask me to do favors (specifically sis... oh how her debts are piling up) and/or letting me sleep.

I need human contact. And not the online-through-AIM or talking-over-the-phone contact. I want someone to drive up to my house one night so I have to sneak out and then we'd go driving almost all night long and then come back to my house at 4am just before dad leaves for golf and grandma wakes up to say her prayers.

I want someone to show me stars that you can't see from where I live.

And I don't care if it's romantic or purely friendly. I just want to go out and not have the family with me. Not even my shadow (sis).

Being stuck in the house with loads of boredom and not enough inspiration leads to the furthering of bad habits. The worst part is that I'm wasting resources which my family could use.

Don't mean to be depressing. Honest.

I'm just feeling anxious at the moment for no apparent reason.

. . . . . posted:||2:30 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .