Oranges with Cupcakes.

... I was going to try to write a pathetic depressed emo poem in blank verse (non-rhyming poetry all in iambic pentameter) ... but that's too structured for me, and I'm not doing it for school. So I have no reason to actually do it. I got as far as the first line and a half - but I have no drive to finish it. So you lot will have to suffer without my attempt at iambic pentameter.
Actually, if I write a decent length poem in iambic pent, I find myself thinking in it. Which is really depressing. Because it's all da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM - so boring.
I just finished a Strongbow, and I'm missing my boyfriend - the Strongbow's probably exacerbating that, but whatever.
Gahh. My life is so uninteresting. Eat, sleep, miss boyfriend, work, make stupid mistakes at work, miss boyfriend's comforting arms, go on computer, miss boyfriend.
That's a summary of my usual day now.
Lame life.
Oh yeah and this morning I tried to tattoo a cross onto the inside of my left ring finger as a permanent reminder to stay pure - my version of a purity ring (aren't I a copycat? ugh. And by the way, I hate purity rings - so why the fuck am I putting a permanent one on myself?) ... but apparently it's very difficult to tattoo yourself on the inside of your hand. It seriously fucking hurts. And I don't even know if I did it deep enough to stay. I'll find out in a couple of weeks - if it vanishes, then the ink grew out with the skin and therefore wasn't deep enough; and if it doesn't, then I'll really have to touch it up, cos it looks like shit. Oh well.

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