MOST OF THE TIME I DON'T SLEEP AT ALL BUT WHENEVER I DO I FEEL LIKE I ROSE FROM THE DEAD IN THE MORNING. ENDLESS BUMMER 2010. THANKS CALIFORNIA. FOR SO LONG I COULDN'T IMAGINE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO HANG OUT SOMEWHERE FOR MORE THAN A COUPLE OF WEEKS BUT NOW I JUST WISH I COULD BE ANYWHERE BUT HERE. OH CRUEL IRONY. MELODRAMATICISM. WISH I READ MORE BOOKS. WHATEVER, I'M DRAGGING MY SHIT THROUGH A BAYOU. LIQUID DIET. I GOT IN A FIGHT WITH A JANITOR LAST NIGHT AND ALL I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT IS A FEW LEFTOVER BUDWEISERS. PEOPLE TRY TO TALK TO ME ABOUT POLITICS AND I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER HOW I USED TO BE (I THINK THAT I'M OK WITH LETTING THAT PART OF ME GO). I ONLY DREAM ABOUT THREE THINGS: TRYING TO FIND SOMEPLACE TO EAT, A SHITTY CREEK, AND WALKING UP THE STAIRS OF MY OLD APARTMENT IN THE SUN AND FINDING YOU THERE. WHO EVEN KNOWS ALL OF THE REGRETS THAT THOSE DREAMS REPRESENT. BUT MISTAKES ARE MY THING AND THEY'RE THE ONLY THING THAT I'M GOOD AT MAKING, AND I'M DRUNK EARLY AGAIN, AND FUCK OFF, IT COULD BE WORSE, I COULD STILL BE IN HELLOGOODBYE.
P.S. CALL ME WHEN YOU THINK THE COAST IS CLEAR.
