livejournal is for bitching, so listen.
oh my god.
"so is this really all just about you wanting to go back to high school?"
"yeah.."
the most miserable hangover ever.
me, and chris, and justin, and bryant all drank whiss key last night and now i have a headache. and i did the thing where you go through your phone and call everyone you know. i got through like, L i think, and then my phone died. i was standing in the bathroom of shamrocks and there are these tori amos lyrics painted all over the walls, but everything's spelled so wrong.
and now everybody's watching A New Hope (Episode 4) as usual, today sucks. i missed my anthropology test, college is for losers, and taylor's floor is so uncomfortable, i wish i had my own room, living in the garage sucks, it's always so hot, there's no internet, and i'm on empty in my car so often, that i think the little orange light that comes on when i have low gas is going to burn out.
there is nothing to read in the bathroom anymore either because i'm sick of dylan's bathroom reader, my hair is getting long enough to where it just kind of flops over and wont stick up anymore, i'm going to see the pixies on friday, matt and dylan are gluing pictures of tits to pictures of robots, taylor has nothing but bad advice, 300 dollars or more in debt, there's no beach in gainesville, street price for drugs go up, no more grocery money, dimwitted.
so things are obviously awesome here in college. i'd have you write me a letter, but i don't really have an address, and i have to go to a judicial meeting because ceren pissed in the bathroom of my dorm once a long time ago, and apparently there's all kinds of rules against that kind of thing. THESE ARE NOT THE DROIDS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.
i kind of think bad things about myself and everything going on and i think it's only like 27 dollars to take a train to west palm, which actually turns out to be cheaper than my gas fees. dylan's walls are green and he has winamp, so it makes listening to music a pain in the ass, dan went to class and i just sat there, watching him walk out, eating cereal. on thursday american history runs for 2 hours instead of 1. everything is boring, everyone is boring, everywhere is boring or too far to drive to. gas is money, money i don't have. i'd like to be really far away and look at a map and run my finger from here to there, my head usually spins when i think about it. i went to california in february, which was really nice, my sister lives there. i didn't have a valentine. burbank is east of hollywood. joel brier has a good live journal.
myspace is confusing, tangerine sour. oh forget it, we hid our things in the box under the window seat. i haven't been in the backseat of a minivan in forever. i used to be happy with just laying on the tile floor watching tv in the morning. i don't think i've seen a morning in months, or when i do, my head is just pounding. i'm sleeping through most of my life, i've taken 18 and 19 hour naps. dylan calls star wars "the holy trilogy." i wish i had stripes on all my shirts. i used to love buying school supplies. it feels so good to sneeze multiple times in a row. it doesn't even matter that my friends are 21, oh my god i should start driving. why does it have to be expensive to go driving. nothing feels good, it always costs so much money. so much money. orange and yellow aren't my favorite colors, but i'll take them both. i like taking back sunday. oh...my...god. and to everyone sitting through 7th period over at alexander w. dreyfoos jr. school of the arts: do you know where your shoes and socks are? throw everything away and walk down okeechobee, over a bridge and stay there. forever. goodbye.
i mean, at least you know what it feels like when nothing makes sense. furniture is so fucking important to me.
we all need places to sleep. we need places to be. vacation is only fun when you balance it against the monotony of everyday, but even vacations can get redundant. i want a new one. dan falconetti.
.donny
i really miss you guys...
a lot.
"so is this really all just about you wanting to go back to high school?"
"yeah.."
the most miserable hangover ever.
me, and chris, and justin, and bryant all drank whiss key last night and now i have a headache. and i did the thing where you go through your phone and call everyone you know. i got through like, L i think, and then my phone died. i was standing in the bathroom of shamrocks and there are these tori amos lyrics painted all over the walls, but everything's spelled so wrong.
and now everybody's watching A New Hope (Episode 4) as usual, today sucks. i missed my anthropology test, college is for losers, and taylor's floor is so uncomfortable, i wish i had my own room, living in the garage sucks, it's always so hot, there's no internet, and i'm on empty in my car so often, that i think the little orange light that comes on when i have low gas is going to burn out.
there is nothing to read in the bathroom anymore either because i'm sick of dylan's bathroom reader, my hair is getting long enough to where it just kind of flops over and wont stick up anymore, i'm going to see the pixies on friday, matt and dylan are gluing pictures of tits to pictures of robots, taylor has nothing but bad advice, 300 dollars or more in debt, there's no beach in gainesville, street price for drugs go up, no more grocery money, dimwitted.
so things are obviously awesome here in college. i'd have you write me a letter, but i don't really have an address, and i have to go to a judicial meeting because ceren pissed in the bathroom of my dorm once a long time ago, and apparently there's all kinds of rules against that kind of thing. THESE ARE NOT THE DROIDS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.
i kind of think bad things about myself and everything going on and i think it's only like 27 dollars to take a train to west palm, which actually turns out to be cheaper than my gas fees. dylan's walls are green and he has winamp, so it makes listening to music a pain in the ass, dan went to class and i just sat there, watching him walk out, eating cereal. on thursday american history runs for 2 hours instead of 1. everything is boring, everyone is boring, everywhere is boring or too far to drive to. gas is money, money i don't have. i'd like to be really far away and look at a map and run my finger from here to there, my head usually spins when i think about it. i went to california in february, which was really nice, my sister lives there. i didn't have a valentine. burbank is east of hollywood. joel brier has a good live journal.
myspace is confusing, tangerine sour. oh forget it, we hid our things in the box under the window seat. i haven't been in the backseat of a minivan in forever. i used to be happy with just laying on the tile floor watching tv in the morning. i don't think i've seen a morning in months, or when i do, my head is just pounding. i'm sleeping through most of my life, i've taken 18 and 19 hour naps. dylan calls star wars "the holy trilogy." i wish i had stripes on all my shirts. i used to love buying school supplies. it feels so good to sneeze multiple times in a row. it doesn't even matter that my friends are 21, oh my god i should start driving. why does it have to be expensive to go driving. nothing feels good, it always costs so much money. so much money. orange and yellow aren't my favorite colors, but i'll take them both. i like taking back sunday. oh...my...god. and to everyone sitting through 7th period over at alexander w. dreyfoos jr. school of the arts: do you know where your shoes and socks are? throw everything away and walk down okeechobee, over a bridge and stay there. forever. goodbye.
i mean, at least you know what it feels like when nothing makes sense. furniture is so fucking important to me.
we all need places to sleep. we need places to be. vacation is only fun when you balance it against the monotony of everyday, but even vacations can get redundant. i want a new one. dan falconetti.
.donny
i really miss you guys...
a lot.