All around me are familiar faces; Worn out places, worn out faces.
Bright and early for the daily races; Going nowhere, going nowhere.
Their tears are filling up their glasses; No expression, no expression.
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow; No tomorrow, no tomorrow.
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad: The dreams in which i'm dying re the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take: When people run in circles it's a very, very mad world, mad world.
Children waiting for the day they feel good; Happy birthday, happy birthday.
And they feel the way that every child should; Sit and listen, sit and listen.
Went to school and I was very nervous; No one knew me, no one knew me.
"Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson?" Look right through me, look right through me.
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad: The dreams in which i'm dying, are the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take: When people run in circles it's a very, very mad world, mad world.
Enlargen your world. Mad World.

I hate it when you're sitting in a quite room reading or watching a movie, or in the library or perhaps a quiet cafe, and someone comes in and starts talking on the phone. That bugs the shit out of me and people need to learn some courtesy before I bash them over the head with my books.

When I get too upset, overwhelmed, or just completely feel like I'm stuck in a rut or something, I do something stupid. Usually dye my hair. It's not a bad color, probably the closest to my natural color as I've been in a long while. But it's brown. A dark blonde, I suppose. I don't know.

But in the past few hours alone, I've wanted to dye it again. Darker. Just because I feel the need for a bigger change or... anonymity.

I think facebook has eaten xanga.