i
don't
likee
shitty people.
why do they have to exist?
why are they allowed to be so fake and remain, in essence, real.
why does it have to affect me?
am i so much like my father that despite the best of me,
i only bring out the worst?
i've learned a lot from him.
like what not to do.
like always accepting your mistakes,
and further,
those of others, even if they can't see them.
does that cancel it out? maybe thats what im doing wrong.
however, could i possibly be in the wrong, always, alone?
i like to have faith in people,
but shit,
im not that dumb either
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waking up drunk is so refreshing today.
I had a cool glass of water and was
so fucking refreshed
by it, and
the fact that the weather,
ah! the weather was much less cold
than I expected.
waking up and not being chilly
makes the day. then
reading some articles, getting
myself informed,
and watching bass solo videos online.
dreamtheater is so pimp. prog,
it really was, and is, the fututre.
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12/12/09, I may have crossed a line this late afternoon. I hate incrementalization.
I want to go home:
shower, sleep, eat.
I want to use the rest of my chalk at billschupp soon.
I miss my family and my pets.
tuppence, tuppence,
tuppence a bag.
I want to smoke a fat bowl right now.
RIGHT NOW.
drug rituals help me focus almost as much as weed itself.
break up, grind, sort, pack, clean, cash, collect, om.
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unless he apologizes to me...i'll be fine. but until then, i won't like him very much, i.e. hate him. it's not cruel, to a heart that's true...
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I'm really sad;
my heart has that thousand-yard-stare limp-emptiness to it;
I want to get drunk
and yell at bitches.
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