(no subject)

May 14, 2005 23:59

I'm worn out, school work is being worked on to an end, Friday night was good, today was alright, tomorrow ought to be, filled with positive excitement.

Computers blow.
Like most kids who grow up by big water, I love me some salt air.
Drove, and saw Sterling.
I love me a Sterling.

Well.
Ain't this the shits.

Ain't nothing new, though. Someone come break this monotony.

Edit at 23:59:26
What the fuck is this. Through my life, I've created a personality and image I use when I live by piling layers upon layers, only partly filled. Thank god sometimes things find a way through a few of them, and I can think about my response before it happens.

Sometimes it feels like the image's layers are flattened. Then I'm pretty happy. Blam, right there.

I don't have my phone. I left it in Joseph's car, and freaked out because I couldn't get it back today. Being attached to stupid little pieces of metal and plastic the size of a deck of cards seems so ridiculous, but so does talking through it in the first place.

Guess I have some weird self control thing now. Too bad it doesn't extend beyond livejournal, and occasionally MySpace. I fucking hate this bullshit. MySpace more. It's all a big cyber-popularity-competition, ain't it? Livejournal, well. I would like to think that I've at least begun to allow myself to write stupid shit and not concern myself with whether people it or not. No one ever comments, so it's easy to assume no one reads it.

With that, on to more, and also less, cryptic things:
This is all so cliche. Makes me want to hit myself a lot. Not only do I offend myself by considering it, and feel that if I decide that's how it is for me, that I'm setting myself up to be in a fairy tale with a bad ending, maybe.

Things seem somehow ********** without it. I can get pretty high driving around singing along to silly synthetic music on stupid sophisticated streets. The shows, the diners, the cafes, the bus stops, the parks, basements, shirts, photographs, benches, people, doughnuts, cigars, soda, scars...just ain't the same, it ain't right that way. Shit man, sounds don't sound the same.

And I know I'm making most of this up in my head, I think one of the hardest parts is when it's back, things feel right again. Ain't got much to build a case against it. That's hard.

Don't got no evidence either way, all you got is how you think you might feel.
Talk about a goddamn grey area.
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