I wonder if mom believes me when I say I don't know how I hurt my hand. When she first saw the bruise, she asked me if I had punched the wall. I of course lied and said no. Somehow I don't think telling the parent that I punched the wall would go over very well.

The bruise is the size of a quarter. I still feel like punching walls.

I'm watching the tendons in my hand move. It's interesting. I can see my veins. I like watching the tendons. Makes me wish I was smarter, so that I could have taken some classes to learn about anatomy. But as we all know, that will never happen.

I took down all of the pictures that were on my wall. One whole wall gone of pictures and maps from National Geographic. All I have left on my walls: big canadian flag, postcard from erica, my credentials of ministry, a dreamcatcher, and my dartboard.

I have 2 30 gallon garbage bags of clothes I'm taking to goodwill. And a box of random crap like shoes I don't wear anymore, a lava lamp, some hats, and other junk that is going to goodwill too. I have 2 more garbage bags full of stuff i'm throwing away.

music: A Little Known Nothing -'little more than something', Act Your Age -'gone', Against Tomorrows Sky -'throwing broken shapes', Alone In A Crowd -'every waking moment & in my dreams', Animal Farm -'and now..you're gone'