a ghost named Coliche Madre
I guess im now guilty of the guilty pleasure that is "live journal" My friend jeremey persuaded me into creating one and well here i am.
Last night i followed my friends Jeremey and Meghan back to her house. They pulled into the driveway and i parked behind them. I sat in my car for a while before noticing a cigarrete left on my front seat. So ,naturally, i decided to smoke it even though im not a smoker. With every exhale the smoke that burned my nostrils formed into a little ghost and floated out my window. I wish to God that i could say the ghosts coming out of my lungs where pains and sorrows leaving my body but of course that is just my bullshit imagination.
Do i really have anything to feel sorry about? I mean my life is sky rocketting towards sucess as of late and my art career is about to snowball down a hill of fame and fortune. Im transfering to a school in san fransisco and i jsut have so many great things going for me.
so why the fuck do i feel so stupid and lonely all the time?
im pathetic.
well anyways i sat there and forgot where i was, what if i didnt follow them and i was just waking up in some driveway and staring at a car that hadnt been in front of me at all and then some redneck guys comes out and asks what the hell im doing and cops come and im just some schitzo running around,,,, but of course they got out of the car embraced and jeremey and i treked home. so im not crazy after all.
Last night i followed my friends Jeremey and Meghan back to her house. They pulled into the driveway and i parked behind them. I sat in my car for a while before noticing a cigarrete left on my front seat. So ,naturally, i decided to smoke it even though im not a smoker. With every exhale the smoke that burned my nostrils formed into a little ghost and floated out my window. I wish to God that i could say the ghosts coming out of my lungs where pains and sorrows leaving my body but of course that is just my bullshit imagination.
Do i really have anything to feel sorry about? I mean my life is sky rocketting towards sucess as of late and my art career is about to snowball down a hill of fame and fortune. Im transfering to a school in san fransisco and i jsut have so many great things going for me.
so why the fuck do i feel so stupid and lonely all the time?
im pathetic.
well anyways i sat there and forgot where i was, what if i didnt follow them and i was just waking up in some driveway and staring at a car that hadnt been in front of me at all and then some redneck guys comes out and asks what the hell im doing and cops come and im just some schitzo running around,,,, but of course they got out of the car embraced and jeremey and i treked home. so im not crazy after all.