repeat chorus (x42)

God damn, dude. My love handles haven't been this predominant since I was about thirteen. I haven't had a legitimate workout (other than sex) in weeks. My little formation of abs is practically gone and looking in the mirror is not a good thing for me to do, more so now than ever. My excuse is that I've been busy, but really I'm not. I'm only working fourteen hours this week, I have no homework, nor any other obligatory tasks to complete (for the most part). I did finally go for a jog around the block like I used to do last night. I was so elated when I came home it was sad. Other than my crippling self-esteem, work is going fine. I've found a method to keeping my left lip piercing open, but it's only a matter of time before my co-workers notice. Until then, I'm happy. I went to the luncheon for my scholarship today held by Kawannis at (something) Mia's in downtown San Jose. I still speak in front of crowds terribly. I have a facial twitch and it was goin' off like a motherfucker. I was so embarrassed, but more so disappointed in myself for not being able to accomplish the simple feat of talking to a crowd of fifty plus people. It's not that bad.

Look, a giraffe.