(no subject)
hello there. it's me again. i'm tired. my work week is over. thank god. my favorite book is gone. each day i have thought about it since it's untimely departure. i need to find another one. purchase, rather. it bothers me most. well.. that and the bag. i had it since high school.. it had POOP carved out from the polo sport logo. tears. virtual ones, obviously. i saw arcade fire. they were immense. i want to play music. it always seems like those musicians get to express themselves and shit. just flip the fuck out if they want. dance silly if they want. yell, cry, whatnot. my job doesn't let me do that. well... that's not completely true.. if the elevator is empty.. and i am going express from the first floor to fourteen.. i can bust a couple of moves. mostly i make sure my fly is not down, my hairs are not out of place and my clothing is not bunching or pulling in any unattractive places.
the end.
the end.