in peas.
michael swanson killed himself yesterday. i haven't typed a sentence in this journal in over a year, now, but i just needed a place to type this - i plan on living very apart from reality for some time. i'm starting to cry again right now so i have to stop. i'm sure no one will read this. i miss you michael and i want to be riding the astral plane with you right now on dope motorcyles and eating the best sandwiches. i'm talking 11th-dimension-good sandwiches.