Lego sucks. I used to be able to build anything; planes, houses, robots, towns, hunks of junk. And now I can't. I got the old suitcase out from under my bed. Spread out a towel and dumped all the pieces onto it. Tried to build. Failed. I started in the time-honoured fashion; pick up some pieces and start. But I found myself thinking too much. I was only on the porch of the house and was already thinking ahead to how many floors, rooms, windows, doors, etc. it should have. So that stopped. Then I tried building a plane. And whilst working on the cockpit I got all concerned about what type of wings I was going to make. Basically, I've lost the edge. Probably a good thing, seeing as I'm eighteen...

Last Friday I was walking home from the train station. And I passed a car that had its windows open. This was in the middle of nowhere; that part of the city centre where only office bods go. So I looked all around and t'wasn't a person to be seen. What should I do? Go up to the car and close its windows? Make a note out of pieces of mud, telling the person that they'd left their windows open ('cos they wouldn't notice when they got back to their car...)? Keep on walking? Well, I was thirsty, so I kept on walking. A mud-note would have been fun but would have taken way too long. And as I said, weren't no-one around who was likely to steal it. Ho hum. Think I'll walk that way again soon, to see if it's still there.

Last week I wrote a paragraph which, upon rereading it, strikes me as pathetic and a cop-out. On account of me not finishing it. So I shall. The feelings that I was having that skewed my perception of self were feelings of wanting to shag the brains out of the girl I was courting. Which went against how I saw myself (cool, calm and collected, for those of you who aren't privy to my inner sanctum). Luckily, it all matters not. The courtship has ended. For she did not feel the same way about me that I felt about her. Which is cool. But I tell you what it isn't? She tried to cushion the blow by saying that I made her laugh. NO! Do not say this, to anyone, ever, if you are trying to soften what you're saying. It makes the person you're telling (me) feel like a fucking stand-up comedian! Which, y'know, would be fun to do... but still! So anyway, the few of you that thought it was more. I didn't say that. You asked whether it was one or the other and I simply said "Yes", in my ever elusive manner. Neither confirming or denying what you assumed. So it was never more than dating and you can all go fuck off and play with frogs.

On to lighter, sunnier topics. Revelation time, people. I've worked out why my parents have been annoying me so much lately ('cos, y'know, I'm the only teenager to ever get that ^_^). It's because they haven't changed. I've know them my whole life and, as far as I can see, they haven't changed one iota in how they behave in all that time. My dad's got more stressed. My mum's got more annoying. But these are all superficial. The way they talk, behave, do things; these are all the same. I, however, am a font of change. Development flows through me like shit through a sewer. So anyway, whereas when I was younger doing A-Levels and going to university was a given (if I didn't I'd never get a job and probably end up homeless) it's way more grey now. There's good old suicide offering the easy way out. Not to mention the whole fucking planet. I can go anywhere, do anything, and instead I go to school and am planning to go to university. Which is why, when A-Levels finish, you may not see me for a few years. I mean, you probably wouldn't see me anyway; different universities, some of you being in different years, etc. But I mean that, if you, for some bizarre reason, wanted to track me down to get that bible I borrowed off you three years ago back, you wouldn't be able to. For a few hundred quid I can buy a one-way ticket anywhere in the world. I think I can save that much. If I stop buying comics. Hell, if I sell all the ones I have at the moment I should be able to get at least £500-750. Nice spending money. For a few weeks anyway. Er... this paragraph started with a point. Yes. I've changed. My parent's haven't. Hence the frustration with them. Sorted.

My digital art. I think that some of you don't appreciate the effort that goes into those little beauties. Most of you probably think, "that Caleb, he just gets some images from somewhere (scans 'em out of magazines or something [thinking in brackets is possible]) and then plays with 'em in PSP for a few minutes and then calls it art. That ain't art! That's just pissing around!" And I mean, as far as the playing around in PSP goes, you'd be correct. But it's STRUCTURED playing, dagnammit. And I usually take a couple of hours at least. I have a feeling that I want to tell and so I do. And as for from magazines; NO! My face? That took seven fucking scans. And my face didn't stay that way by itself you know. I had to keep my face stretched to the utmost for one and a half minutes at a time. And that background? How do you think I made that? I got some clingfilm and carefully arranged it on my scanner. I then poured conditioner into it, squidged it into shapes, and then scanned the bugger. Would you do that? 'Course you wouldn't! 'Cos you are all brain-dead fungi!!! Well, maybe that's a bit harsh. But when I ask for feedback, I WANT FEEDBACK!!!!!! I want you to comment on my effort! Say if you think it's good! Say if you think it's crap! But SAY!!! Fecking heretics...

I keep wanting to punch walls. Various reasons. Frustration being key. Anyway, I keep going to punch walls with way too much power. If I kept going I could break my hand. Though since most of the walls in my house are plaster I'd probably just make a big hole... Though I could get lucky and hit a supporting beam or some such. Anyway, I keep going to punch the walls. And I keep drawing back at the last moment, so all I do is punch it half-heartedly. And the other day I had this glass of milk in my hand. And I figured I could crush it. You know, squeeze and squeeze until the glass buried itself through my hands. And I went for it. But then I was thirsty so I finished the milk instead. It's all about social impotence dagnammit.

In case some of you think I made any of this weekly (or any past weekly) up in an effort to make you al think of me differently. No! In the past I have left out certain nuggets of information so as to bias you in my favour. But that hasn't happened for at least ten weeks. Since the move to plain-text, sent from my Yahoo! account, anyways. Since 28 then. Er... five weeks! For the last five weeks (summer holidays) I have been nought but brutally honest. Not even leaving out the finer details. Natch. We're back to school on Wednesday. The lying and cheating and manipulation can all restart next week. Why am I even writing this weekly? It's good old self-doubt again ^_^, Do any of you even read this? Do any of you even care? yada yada yada...

I know the answers. Only respond if you feel like it.

It's a weight off my mind, that's true.

Suzanne by Weezer was playing.

The old stuff. Coursework not even started. Sleeping in the day, waking up at night. Cool for now, but not when we go back. I'm on the 907. Don't know if I can be arsed to blag my way onto the 950 anymore.

www.transmetropolitan.co.uk is coming along nicely. Going to see Warren Ellis on the 16th. Get an "exclusive interview" or some such. I imagine. I now know how to make a webpage load up from several different script files! That doesn't mean a thing to most all of you! Trust me, in these days of darkness, it's a shiny glimmering bit of happiness for me. Getting excited over a website? Sad. And since none of you have probably noticed yet. Go have a look at www.freaks.fsnet.co.uk (inside). In the bottom left hand corner? That logo changes randomly on every page! Respect my authority!

Helen Davis. Read this. Either send stuff to caleb@megasad.freeserve.co.uk or megasad@yahoo.com but not both. 'Cos you will read this amoungst all the other crap...

And none of you even got last week's title. Watch and learn;
Esobre v2.2
2.2v erbosE
22 verbose
Too Verbose
Nothing amazing in this week's. So don't bother.

I need to go have a shower. And then I think I'll watch Mallrats (3rd time). And then some dinner.