it's murder on the dance floor
written: 9:53 p.m. on Friday, Mar. 15, 2002

np: "Murder on the Dance Floor" by Sophie somethingsomethingsomething in my head.

I had dinner at Pasta Fresca tonight. Me and the family were going to dine with my aunts and everyone else at this dumpling place, but there wasn't any seats left and we got there late, so change of plan, we went to have Italian food instead. I couldn't finish mine. I find that nowadays I can't stand the sight of food, let alone the thought of eating. Right now I'm so bloated, I feel like throwing up all over the keyboards.

And he just gets more and more gorgeous each time I go. But I don't care, I'm not going for a month. Food drives me nuts. Why do people eat?

That question need not be answered, obviously. Wow, I don't know what to write. I spent 44 minutes writing rubbish (and I mean, rubbish) in my diary this afternoon. Two men came to repair the air-cons, and I was supposed to be doing some school-related crap, but the more I stared at my Physics textbook, the more I want to hurl it out of the damn window. So I played silverchair's Neon Ballroom and proceeded to write absolutely nothing in the diary. It kept me busy for a while, at least. After that I went to lie on my bed. I would've done that a lot earlier, but this guy was in the room, repairing the air-con, so I couldn't.

School starts again next week. I really, really dread it so much, I don't know how I'm gonna survive it. Term One sucked. Really sucked. Term Two would suck too unless I do something about. Have I? Barely. But this is boring, so next topic, please.

I tell you, that waiter's physique reminds me so much of Joaquin, whom I love to bits. I'm dying to go New York and have a life for once. On the car I heard an advert for this year's Internation Film Festival. And it occured to me that I missed the Australian one, and they had a Geoffrey Rush film. It was just...I'm missing everything. Honestly. I feel like I'm missing out on a life, you know? I want to go to the film fest, but no one can take me, and no one is willing to go with me. I need a change of scenery, man. This one is too insipid and dry and drapy (sp) and dull for my liking. I'm tired of it.


before sunrise // before sunset

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