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the colours in your head


My dying brain.

I used to be a perfect writer. My grammar was beyond reproach, my spelling won me the respect of my teachers well into high school.


Things I have misspelled today:

Sourse: Source
Becomming: Becoming
You're: Your
Hopfully: Hopefully

And those are only the ones I've caught. God knows what I wrote incorrectly during my Russian lesson while I was having things dictated to me.

Oh yeah, and I got raped by the entire Russian language. I kid you not. It shoved me up against a wall and violated me until I passed out bleeding on the ground. Somehow this all happened in a genteel little cafe with artsy professor types all around me. I think I need to get a different tutor than Alla the One-Eyed. Someone who, when I ask how to use a case, doesn't respond, "Oh, don't worry... You just have to know when to use it. You'll figure it out eventually." I start lessons with the minirussian tomorrow and hopefully he will actually know his shit and I will be able to govorio the porusski. Hopefully he will also not lunge. I don't think he will, though, despite my former dire predictions. I think he's attracted or something, but I believes he realises the impropriety of the situation. Gak.

Mmmmm sleep time now. Hopefully no scary dreams about Mick Jagger or tsunamis.


At 10:05 PM, November 25, 2011, Anonymous Roger said...

Well, I do not really imagine it is likely to have effect.
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