(diaryland) October 05, 2001 - 9:41 a.m.

Imagine a huge, festering turd, lying in the street. Then imagine if a jeep ran over it, crushing dead grass into it and flattening it all over the road. Then imagine if a drunk person came out of a bar at 4AM and vomited all over it. Then imagine if the turd got up off the street and played the piano.

That�s how I sound.

My piano exam is only a month and a half away and I sound like shit! I�m panicking. People keep making me do things that stop me from being able to practice, like have weddings and sleeping in the next room and stuff. Plus because I�m so worried, I sound worried when I play and sometimes I accidentally moan with anxiety. And I lost my scales book and there�s one scale I�ve forgotten how to play so I never bother playing it and I�ll have to learn it eventually but I can�t be fucked.

At my lesson, my piano teacher says, �YOU�RE STILL DOING THAT WRONG!� to like everything and I get sad. She thinks I get sad because she�s being all harsh at me, but fuck that. It�s because I know she�s right and I�m scared like hell. Do you know how scared hell is? It�s very scared. Like me.

I only JUST got a piano on Friday so maybe I�ll improve slightly. MAYBE.