I usually find these journal dealies to be a nuisance, so I've decided to write one about something that there's no way anybody could care about in retaliation.

My piano is possessed. I'm sure that this is true. It's either my piano or my pachinko machine, but something is up. There have been a few occasions when I have sat down at my piano and just put my hands on the keys, when they suddenly begin to move around and play sweet tunes. I have no idea where this music is coming from, but it certainly isn't my head. I think that this likes to happen whenever I'm starting to get cocky about my composition or improvisation skill, just to remind me that I didn't really write most of the good stuff anyway. Because it's actually some sort of ghost. That's living in my piano. Or maybe my pachinko machine. It's true, I swear.

I eat them for candy. Which, by the way is my favorite meal of the day. You should leave them for me if you so much as lay eyes on my drawings and stuff because I'm hella hungry.