So this is journal entry numero dos…dose…deuse…OKAY IT'S THE SECOND. Forgive me for never taking Spanish as a foreign language. This one is pretty short, but the next one will be longer promisez0rz. They won't all be this short because I personally hate reading short chapters all throughout a fic. But remember: they're not chapters, they're journal entries. It all depends on the Roxas side of my brain.

September 2nd

So the first day of school was today. Oh joy, oh rapture, oh kill-me-now. I can tell this year is already going to be just like every other year of my life: friendless and completely content to be so. I mean yeah, there are kids who call themselves my "friends" but I don't want friends. I just consider them annoyances. You know, minor blips on my radar. Not a big deal at all.

School is easy pie for me. Having a non-existent social life leaves plenty of time for book-bonding. At least the books give me some kind of profit: good grades. What do I get from friends?

a) bad grades

b) useless drama

c) actually having to talk about my problems

d) listening to theirs and actually having to care (or wasting my time pretending to)

e) all of the above.

If you don't know the answer go jump off a bridge. Or at least run into a wall a few times. Who knows, maybe you'll knock some common-sense into your head. After school I usually have work, which is nice. I love my job, for a change. I work at an art gallery in the city, which is a huge commute from Twilight Town, but it works itself out. Going to work gives me a break from the usual drama of school and the annoyances of having to deal with kids I know (and the bastards I don't that think they can say whatever they want about me).

It's a small, quiet gallery. It mostly deals with photography and modern art, both things I am obsessed with. I might actually paste some pictures in here for the heck of it, perhaps I'll get extra credit? My boss is a nice guy, really quiet. His name's Cloud and we're a lot alike. Not like I've ever actually talked to him on a personal level, however. Then again it's not like I want to.

Usually all the job involves is opening boxes of art, setting up said art, re-arranging the art I just set up because Cloud thinks it looks too "unimaginative," then moving it back to the same place again, decorating, sometimes making murals or paper-weights, things that take up space. It's not just me though, there's this other guy that works with me called Leon. He's a really nice guy. He doesn't talk that much, but he's friendly. We do talk on a semi-personal level sometimes. If I cared about friends, I guess he'd be something of the sort.

Anyway I have to start my commute to Radiant Garden (the city where I work), if I want to get there on time. If not Cloud will probably start bitching, not something one would want to deal with. Especially when one hasn't had his regular dose of black coffee today.