3vil Chef.

AH. I had a good night's sleep, and got up feeling grateful. Grateful, even though I have one, that my life does not revolve around a specific goblin who sends tingles of fear down my spine and belongs in purgatory.
(With the way things are going, I should really sleep-in more often...)
I'm grateful that the kitchen is not flooded... grateful that the floor isn't covered in vomit... grateful no one is swearing at me, grateful, in a way, that I messed up earlier, because people have ...

It's so dark and lonely here. It's becoming sos I almost believe Light was my only reason for signing in day after day...
"ENOUGH ALREADY", cry the Cyan masses, "shut up about it. Find another subject, or perish where you fall."
Okay, fine.
So, today I'm waiting on one of my few loyal friends to upload something so I can see it. I've only just heard about it, but I feel I've been waiting ages - that can't be right, right?
This just shows the level ...

I guess a blog (I feel like such a brain-dead teen saying that word) is something you gush your feelings into. How trite. How utterly banal it seems. Why could they not keep my journal, or give me a choice between the two? Fine. As revenge, I shall write the most boring blawg ever.
I am so annoyed. Day after day I trudge on in anonymity, working, chilling out, working, chilling out. The whole thing is turning to muck. I need to break out of this cycle. But how to do it? I can't just stop ...

I forgot to include a pole with that Sketch Contest Voting Thread I made. Idiotic me, why can't I get every little detail right?
Because I ain't perfect. (I'm realizing that more and more lately) That annoys me. Curses.

We have gathered here today to mourn the passing of Cyanosuke's ultimate journal. I shall now step aside, as Emotional Cyan has prepared a eulogy.
Emotional Cyan, stepping up to the podium, bottom lip quivering: "H-he w-wanted to be remembered as the u-ultimate journal. I, for one, shall think of him as such-"
Desperado Cyan in crowd stands: "That's extremely big-headed fer a journal." (spits tobaccy and grimaces)
Emotional Cyan: "How dare you dishonor ...