| xanga for life. what a sad life. i should probably bathe and then go to sleep but i'm all alone in the house and i don't particularly like sleeping when no one else is around. i get anxious. |
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| Turn it on, turn it on, turn me on, mmmm
Do you ever have so many things to talk about that when you actually get the chance you just freeze up and turn into the same old shut-mouth (in case anyone is wondering, yes, i typoed "shut-mouth" and, yes, it was "shit-mouth") that you always are were and will be? That's how I am. I want to talk. I want to scream and yell and laugh. Hm. None of that happens very often, I don't think. I'm listening to a song you hate, probably.
My head is so empty.
You're right, I don't live.
Which is why I am going to go drink.
Hurrah.
Later....
Well I didn't go drink. Yet.
I am fairly sure that if I cleaned off my computer screen it would be yellow from all the cigarette smoke I blow straight at it while I'm here. I feel kinda sick.
I think I'm allergic to nag champa incense. Also, I finally figured out and drew the tattoo I want. It's aweeesome. And it's a sheep, so everyone should be happy. That's all I need to complete my sheep relic collection, for it to be permanently inked on my arm, right.
It took a lot of doing, but I got it exactly the way I want it, and even my dad admitted that it was nice.
I'm tired. Beer calls, but I'll probably fall asleep and be unable to enjoy the buzz.
Huuuuuuuuuuurllllllllllllllll
I'll put in my drinking song, which by the way is White Light - Gorillaz. I like the bass. If only it had clapping in it.
And go see if I want to do this thing called Lonely 4 a.m. (I remembered, but only possibly because it says "a.m." next to the time in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen.
And then I just keep talking and talking because the computer screen always listens to me. I cannot lace shoes. That's just the way it is. I sat there for awhile (again) tonight trying to figure it out and it just wouldn't happen. I have teh tard hands. I always have to have someone else lace my shoes and clean up my puke and open the beer bottle, figure out the dvd player, unlock a cell phone, do math for me, pay for things when I'm too shy to do it myself, ask a stranger for a soda, catch/kill the wasp, etc etc.
Helplessness.
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| here i am at mark's apt.
rock you like a hurricane.
whatever that means.
so mark is taking a shower
i'm a tramp i'm a tramp
so far today i've been called:
faggot, faggo, slut, slutto, cunt
i'm a'rollin
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| fuck Scott.
I need a shower. I'm too serious.
HUH?
How do I say something?
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