Why am I always so fucking nostalgic?
I need new memories. Well, I need to be making new memories. Dance with the dead in my dreams. But, memories always seem better because you're remembering what you want to. It'll get better. It has to. Work, school ... yeah ... that sounds good enough to bide me time. The string on my guitar 'tis broken. Damnit. You try to practice so that you can not be in a band and have no real reason to play, but no. Now that I'm living with Micah, I realize how very few friends I actually have. Who do I hang out with that isn't part of Micah's group ... JD. Who just learned to turn his computer on without blowing it up, so maybe he'll get to read this. Barney's HAS to hire me. I need some fucking money. Yeah, my expenses are paid, but that doesn't mean I have any money. Maybe I should start taking me meds again. Let's start with serequel. Slainte.