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fucking a.
it's kind of like me talking about dragons. it don't make no goddamn sense.
not much in life does.
i've been re-evaluating everything lately. being in a convent will do that.
so i'm back to square one.
after months of being open wide like so many caverns i am required now to close up and bide my time.
my fucking time.
it seems as if all i do is wait around. when i make my move, they're never ready, and when i hang back they wonder why i am so far away.
FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH. ALL THOSE DAYS I CAME IN AT TWO IN THE AFTERNOON TO FIND YOU STILL PASSED OUT ON HOTEL BEDS, ALL THAT TIME I TRIED TO REACH YOU AND BEG YOU TO COME BACK TO REALITY, THAT HIDING WOULDN'T MAKE IT ANY BETTER, AND YOU TELL ME I'M A MILLION MILES AWAY?!
god, i never wished for anyone to die until i found out your perrogative.
nonexistance.
so i'm a clam now. it'll make things much easier on everyone. and isn't that the whole point?
"new t-shirts here"
listen to "alice" by tom waits, that's me right now.
my eyelids are so heavy right now. i need a fucking drink.
i need a lot of things, none of which i will get by sitting on my hands.
but i gotta.
fuck music. all of it. it's brought me nothing.
good night, sleep tight, let not nightmares invade.
i often wonder why people make their lives out to be way lamer than they really are... i won't front, i do it too, which is why i question it.
ZOLTAN!
nope.
my insecurities are my goddamned business. you made an effort, you say?
really?
i'm not nearly as selfish as i should be. if i were, i wouldn't even fucking be here right now.
if a butterfly flaps its'wings in Recita, does that mean you might actually realise what you've got right in front of you?
fucking monarchs.
i've tried so hard to do good for everyone else. b-o-o-h-o-o.
oh well.
back to square one.
how about some head? that's all i want. nothing matters except the sweet feel of a mouth on genitalia, don't it make you know?
