The only reason to live is because dying is so boring
I don't know why I stayed over at my friend's house for long stretches of time again. It doesn't even seem worth it to stay here, even though this is a better place. My classes have had such high rates of attrition that I wonder if those people got a clue or if I've fallen into another existential crisis that dot the landscape, disguised as heavily-trodden cigarette butts. Always hungry and in wavering health... sounds like I should conform perfectly, become an average student in a below-average environment.
I don't even know why I had Andy drop me off here. I'm unkempt, tired, hungry and slightly upset; my cellphone is dead; my plans are nowhere to be found and the last ride out took off without me. I want to lay down, eat something that actually has nutritional value and work on this paper, the rough draft of which is due tomorrow.
My sister's back, also, which means zero time for putting anything artistic together. I'm just some semi-nomadic asshole without a tune to carry, anyway.