Another eventless Tuesday. Test in geometry, quiz in physics, me barely passing due to last-minute studying... the usual. Another lunch of watching Bret pathetically flirt with Sheila. He really must be stopped. According to Jennifer, Sheila honestly just likes the attention and would most likely never think of dating Bret. It's a pity, too, not only because Bret's going to have his poor little heart broken, but Jenn's feeling neglected by her friends again. I can't say it's all Bret and Sheila's fault. Jennifer has the lowest self esteem of just about anyone I know. Her and her low-carb diet...

I'd better stop babbling about all this redundant teenage gossip. It's all so meaningless in the long run, though I may be the only one to see it. Soandso's not going to die of sheer self-depression because his girlfriend left him; that only happens in Shakespeare and Greek tragedies. Just how the hell can someone die of depression? I've never heard of anyone becoming dehydrated as a result of crying too much. Perhaps there's a level of sadness out there that just... stops your heart, or something. I'll never know.

I just don't know what it is about old rock bands that's just so invigorating. I think it could be the fact that unlike most of today's stupid pop-punk poser bands, those old guys from Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden had decent song lyrics. Who the hell wants to know about your girlfriend dumping you because you're a loser, and then the fact that you don't own a TV? I don't know what song that's from, but those lines are almost a direct quote. Modern musical artists are either complete weirdoes (Micheal Jackson) or not too creative (Blink 182?).

It's time to sink back in my office chair of electric guitar and oriental tea. My music is almost as mesmerizing as the blue LEDs in Larkin's hair...