it's a true story

[driedupmarker]

I drank another bottle of cheap champagne tonight... it's my thrid night drinking, maybe fourth... or fifth. I seem to be faking any depression which exists. I guess it's working out; I seem not to care what anybody thinks of me. I told a girl she was a bitch the other night. I wanted her to cry. She ended up kissing me on the cheek, but then I push her away from me and said, "fuck off!” the last thing i need is some obtuse girl touching me with her mouth. I went skating at the thrill-zone. I did a bunch of tricks which mean dick. Skating is all I really have to look forward to now... once again. Well, then there’s drugs and booze... kind of like two or three summers ago. I remember perching on the roof top on my garage. Thinking about how shitty everything was. A girl walked up out of nowhere and said, "hey Johnny!" she was the first girl to call me that. I enjoyed it very much. She gave the look of lust. It was beautiful. I climbed down just for her. I had planned to stay up on the rooftop all day... maybe even all night. I think we left... maybe we did drugs. Maybe something happened... but it's pointless now. I have black hair again, and I weigh just about the same amount, but now I’m 21... I was only 19 then. So young. I didn't want sex, I didn't want love. I just wanted something more. It’s fare too of an impressive idea to describe. I think it lasted three months. Then sex arose. I hate sex... it always ruins everything. I’m going back to college. Maybe I’ll make more money. I still have my old id. I remember when I bought it. I had taken three valiums. I was addicted at this point of the summer. I received a phone call and we me met up at the park. I wrote my first true story about it. It was called... well... that’s not important. Anywho. After that I changed my whole life. I am who I am today because of that one summer. All my scars, cloths, style, ideas, and even pride came from that one summer. I wish I was a junkie again, I have the money... all i need is the drugs. This time I don't have a companion to pursue such horrible ideas. I have myself, and all my friends telling me how fucked I am for doing it. Speaking of drugs I think it's time for a valium chased with some champagne.
I think I’m finished, I could type more but whatever.