ive never considered myself a julias caesar, or any roman at all, in fact (much prefer the celts). but it would appear that fate has branded me as him anyway;
sum1 has stabbed me in the back.

i am crossing my fingers so hard for baltek, my flesh is turning white around my bones! i hope he gets what he wants!

i, am exhausted. sleep curls its dreamy tendrils round my limbs and claims control. i am too tired to do anything but sleep. And today, i argued with R. that, making me shed salty tears, draining me and leaving an empty vessel. perhaps sleep can cure this?

oh snow,
my love for you does grow!