where the hell am i?
Shit.
I think i am changing. Mentally and aesthetically. This change is not severe, I still know myself and all the beliefs that i hold and exactly what the fuck is going on but, goddamnit.
fucking... hemp necklace and fucking hiking in the mountains gearless and the mushrooms and the no shoes, the plants, the mushrooms and fuck, the tye dye. I never would have known that i could look so studly in my black clothes and my wife beaters beautfifully tye dyed?
Perhaps it's all the influence of Stephanie, whom i love dearly and who in which is lending her futon to my sleeping habits. She's pretty much an insanely beautiful person.
i learned recently on my hippie voyages that there is this mystical feral hippie association squad that live high in the mountains and they are known as rainbow kids.
But I will never convert to the ways of the wandering and dredded, even though dread locks are insanely attractive, for but one miserable thing.
I REALLY GREATLY DISLIKE HIKING.
FUCK HIKING.
on a similar note, i got a shirt at savers that stated simply, "fuck yoga." I thought it was hilarious to I obtained it.
Now, I just need a job. The two perfect jobs completely fell through and although I am pissed off about it, so I guess I will get some really crappy high paying job until i can do something else.
I have a drivers liscence.
One of these days I'm going to go to westminster campus and take my ged test so i can go to school elsewhere.
too fucking busy laying around and getting sunburnt and swimming in random pools and living and fucking around and, shit.
everyone come to the creek fest because i think i will be there all weekend, maybe possibly.
But the church club is both free and goth night in sunday nights so from here on out, that will be a weekly event for me.
days keep passing and the routine is returning
I think i am changing. Mentally and aesthetically. This change is not severe, I still know myself and all the beliefs that i hold and exactly what the fuck is going on but, goddamnit.
fucking... hemp necklace and fucking hiking in the mountains gearless and the mushrooms and the no shoes, the plants, the mushrooms and fuck, the tye dye. I never would have known that i could look so studly in my black clothes and my wife beaters beautfifully tye dyed?
Perhaps it's all the influence of Stephanie, whom i love dearly and who in which is lending her futon to my sleeping habits. She's pretty much an insanely beautiful person.
i learned recently on my hippie voyages that there is this mystical feral hippie association squad that live high in the mountains and they are known as rainbow kids.
But I will never convert to the ways of the wandering and dredded, even though dread locks are insanely attractive, for but one miserable thing.
I REALLY GREATLY DISLIKE HIKING.
FUCK HIKING.
on a similar note, i got a shirt at savers that stated simply, "fuck yoga." I thought it was hilarious to I obtained it.
Now, I just need a job. The two perfect jobs completely fell through and although I am pissed off about it, so I guess I will get some really crappy high paying job until i can do something else.
I have a drivers liscence.
One of these days I'm going to go to westminster campus and take my ged test so i can go to school elsewhere.
too fucking busy laying around and getting sunburnt and swimming in random pools and living and fucking around and, shit.
everyone come to the creek fest because i think i will be there all weekend, maybe possibly.
But the church club is both free and goth night in sunday nights so from here on out, that will be a weekly event for me.
days keep passing and the routine is returning