(no subject)
no really nobody would know
blah blah nutcakes
i used to like pour my heart out but it's funny how that stops. nothing really happens. i mean a lot happens. a lot goes on. especially in my head a lot goes on. sort of. catastrophes and being outside happen. snow happens, and cold. getting drunk on the wrong night, that occurs. but what was i ever talking about, and who was i talking to? i'm on the ghostly rung of internet social networking; does anybody really feel the connection, i think yeah, but i'm not sure how. anyway i never had anything bloggy to say. i just write like a permanent teenager and i was a teenager (i'm not anymore, but i don't know that i ever was) and there were my teenage thoughts and they weren't for anything it was just like, not knowing where this one should go, and not being able to pen write without cramps. blogging is like looka me looka me right..i wasn't anything to look at. and i don't write legibly. and i don't do anything. i used to do things. actually no i didn't, i used to think more things. i still think don't i, but i'm too tired of it. i stop it midway. or i stop it from sounding important. you think everything's important when you're in high school, cos things are. more important, then. i miss that. i miss things feeling important. even though it was always importance in a catastrophic sense. a having no perspective. but it felt more lively. i just keep getting over everything because i think i was taught to get over everything or again maybe i just got exhausted from being under everything.
see this feels good, even if it goes nowhere. i like creating even if it's sort of nothing, sort of like creating carbon dioxide. it's not much of an accomplishment, not very new at ALL. but it feels good.
blah blah nutcakes
i used to like pour my heart out but it's funny how that stops. nothing really happens. i mean a lot happens. a lot goes on. especially in my head a lot goes on. sort of. catastrophes and being outside happen. snow happens, and cold. getting drunk on the wrong night, that occurs. but what was i ever talking about, and who was i talking to? i'm on the ghostly rung of internet social networking; does anybody really feel the connection, i think yeah, but i'm not sure how. anyway i never had anything bloggy to say. i just write like a permanent teenager and i was a teenager (i'm not anymore, but i don't know that i ever was) and there were my teenage thoughts and they weren't for anything it was just like, not knowing where this one should go, and not being able to pen write without cramps. blogging is like looka me looka me right..i wasn't anything to look at. and i don't write legibly. and i don't do anything. i used to do things. actually no i didn't, i used to think more things. i still think don't i, but i'm too tired of it. i stop it midway. or i stop it from sounding important. you think everything's important when you're in high school, cos things are. more important, then. i miss that. i miss things feeling important. even though it was always importance in a catastrophic sense. a having no perspective. but it felt more lively. i just keep getting over everything because i think i was taught to get over everything or again maybe i just got exhausted from being under everything.
see this feels good, even if it goes nowhere. i like creating even if it's sort of nothing, sort of like creating carbon dioxide. it's not much of an accomplishment, not very new at ALL. but it feels good.