Sorry, no phone calls will be taken.

Hehe, hey, look *waves* I'm alive!

Though not at school today, thank Pillow. I haven't written that modernistic/futuristic/surrealistic poem we were supposed to, and I seriously consider not doing it at all. I like that we get to try out different styles, but modernism has never-ever-ever been a thing for me. I may like it, like some of Salvador Dali, but I can't do it, and certainly not write it. If it was a drawing, then maybe.

My throat still doesn't like it's new population of acid clot-beings, but I guess they'll come to terms eventually. In the meantime, though, I'm thankful if I can avoid speaking. So phone calls will be turned down kindly unless my grandma is dying. Sorry.

Actually, you should be thankful. My brother keeps laughing at how I sound when I try to speak. I can't say m, n, ng, b and so on, and most of the time when I start a sentence I sound like a suffocated rat. "Automatvapen" is for some reason no problem to say, though.

God, that short story in swedish, over there <---, it just gets worse for every time I read it. What the hell was I thinking? It's like some stupid vending machine love story written by some 50 yo lady. I have to do something about it.