Cancer, the other flesh eating parasite and Conor Oberst also alot like cancer SHIT STORM
So, I've been watching Scrubs on DVD for the past two days, and it's starting to reignite my sense of mortality. For instance I probably have cancer, again. And I find out for sure in two weeks. And then I find out if there's anything that can be done about it. Then I have surgery or wait around to die. Which has me thinking alot about dead people. Which makes me miss Nathan. Which makes me shake and then cry uncontrollably, and then I just cry harder. Mostly because I have to live the rest of this life missing him, knowing that either, we would be hanging out right now or we'd be in some arguement, but friends again in a week or two. Knowloedge of that makes me wonder about what happens to Brian if I die, and then what happens to Scarlett. Knowing that one day you're gonna die is normal and a fact of life. But knowing that your ultimate doom may already be here feeding on your insides is a whole nother. But I am getting my new tattoo today. So I guess that's something to look forward to, something good. I just hate feeling like this. Helpless.
Then last night I couldn't sleep even after taking muscel relaxors and vicodin, and I kept thinking about all of the bullshit that I've been through in and done to people in my life. And I don't know why because there's nothing I can do about any of it. It all already happened, and it really doesn't have any baring and my life today. So why was I torturing myself with it, haging over my head like a storm cloud. And it all came out so poetically. Which made "A Perfect Sonnet" run through my head because that's the song that always runs through my head when in deep thought. It helps the thought floud, shit storm. And then I realized how much I hate Connor Oberst. His fake fakeness. His poetry sale and how he thinks it's funny that people actually bought his last album(s), because he knows it's crap. Laughing hysterically in a pile of money, while snorting cocaine off of Wionna Ryders tits. And that just made me mad because I am what I write. My pen is weapon against my sad weepy little brain. And he just acts sad to get weepy little brains to buy his records so he can support his coke habit. And his video "how very indie rock of you," that's what I have say, what a bunch of fake.
So then my crazy alert brain decided that I need to stop drinking so much coffee because that might kill the constant flow of thought. And then I relized that that would just cause me to have a bad headache. So my brain then decided to sing the song some more and it put me to sleep, and now writing it all down, has made the song come back, dammit I can't win.
By the way, Connor, Kill Yourself
Then last night I couldn't sleep even after taking muscel relaxors and vicodin, and I kept thinking about all of the bullshit that I've been through in and done to people in my life. And I don't know why because there's nothing I can do about any of it. It all already happened, and it really doesn't have any baring and my life today. So why was I torturing myself with it, haging over my head like a storm cloud. And it all came out so poetically. Which made "A Perfect Sonnet" run through my head because that's the song that always runs through my head when in deep thought. It helps the thought floud, shit storm. And then I realized how much I hate Connor Oberst. His fake fakeness. His poetry sale and how he thinks it's funny that people actually bought his last album(s), because he knows it's crap. Laughing hysterically in a pile of money, while snorting cocaine off of Wionna Ryders tits. And that just made me mad because I am what I write. My pen is weapon against my sad weepy little brain. And he just acts sad to get weepy little brains to buy his records so he can support his coke habit. And his video "how very indie rock of you," that's what I have say, what a bunch of fake.
So then my crazy alert brain decided that I need to stop drinking so much coffee because that might kill the constant flow of thought. And then I relized that that would just cause me to have a bad headache. So my brain then decided to sing the song some more and it put me to sleep, and now writing it all down, has made the song come back, dammit I can't win.
By the way, Connor, Kill Yourself