revolving life. in color.

my dad and my uncle are tearing up some more of the house. taking down a wall, putting up some sort of closet contraption thing. but hey, it doesn't affect my side of the house, so they can saw away all they please.

as far as i am concerned, i never left anywhere. actually, i don't want to deal with people talking to me with a little ticked off sound in their voice because i'm far from enthusiastic about this whole ordeal.

seriously, if my mother tries to talk to me again i think i will escape into santa fe for a few good hours.

and none of this is for you, but i haven't written in three days, and it's making me talk to myself now. and i don't like talking to myself. my mother talks to herself. um, yeah.

and now i've forgotten what i've been thinking for the past hour. i hate when this happens. i should just get started on the homework i have. off.