Beautiful Richey Manic, the Time Has Come
Alright, Richey Edwards. Where the fuck are you? Let's not lie. You're out there somewhere. And I need to know where that place is. The Manic Street Preachers are okay, not really my kind of music, but I can understand why they're popular. But, oddly, I listen to them because of my frustration towards you. Come on. Leopard print coats, anorexia, binge drinking, self-mutilation, carving "4REAL" into your arm during an interview (hardcore), and, oh yeah, disappearing off the face of the earth 11 years ago. Sorry if I'm a bit curious.
(Ignore me, especially if you have no idea what I'm talking about. Lately it appears as if I'm using my livejournal to vent about my pointless frustrations.)