My room is a mess.

Hey guys. Lets skip the "I'm sorry I forgot about you" business and get straight to the point.

The following is a series of photos of my room, taken just now. As you can see...

MY.

ROOM.

IS.

A.

FREAKIN'.

MESS.

*breathes*

Papers lying everywhere, piles of books and files, CDs and DVDs hiding under all those invisible layers of dust.

Speaking of dust, that may or may not be the probable cause for my on-and-off bouts of sneezies. Look at that, sneezies. I'm training to make the painful, forced, unstoppable expulsion of mucus from our nasal orifices cute. I swear ye not, 'tis not cute when your face is all crumpled up with a nose that makes Rudolf the Reindeer runs for its money. Tissue makers rejoice when profits rocketed beyond expectation as the shelves empty themselves of the "facial wipes - nothing is softer" tagged boxes.

When I sneeze, I cannot, for the life of me, let out a small "a-ti-shoo." that some people, ladies mostly, are able to. It just looks more painful in a way. I let out a powerful "A-CHOOO-OOUUUUU-hah" because that's more relieving, definitely. This makes it difficult (HAHAHA I had to spell-check 'difi- difficc- dificult? difficult') --- I lost my train of thought.

Just came back from dinner, that's why. My sister is yelling right now. Damn those hormones. I remember when I was being controlled by them too. Trust me, it wasn't pretty, just read my first blog entries. Now I am a mature, rational adult --- OMG I AM A FUCKING ADULT, FUCK.

I don't want to go into that right now. I shall address that in another post that may come between tomorrow and the next three years, tops.