I've hated school, & officially hated every stage of school I've gone through (twice to be exact, considering I don't have a recollection of my emotional state of mind during kindergarten), with a fire & rage unbeknownst to man. I hate man with above furor as well. But I officially, OFFICIALLY, HATE SCHOOL. Furthermore, I have never sliced, diced, dissected, and twisted a piece of work around so much in my life that I could recite soliloquies upon demand, and I utterly dislike that I like some of the fucked up shit I read from 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th century literature. I spent the better portion of my month mooning over Hamlet, Kenneth Brannagh, Hawke, and Gibson. Fuck Almereyda. Aren't I a contradiction within a contradiction? A play within itself, yes. You may now call me "Hamlet." Where is my Ophelia? Slap me and tickle my fancy if you have no idea what I'm blabbering about, because I am an English major with no sense of direction :)
By the way, my rack looks huge. It's not that big in real life. I swear, sometimes photos make me out to look better than I really am. Long live false self-expression! Girls with glasses can be sexy too. Eat your heart out.