And I swear to the stars I'll burn this whole city down.
I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. Even when things are going my way, I feel like I want to escape. I don't belong anywhere near where I've ended up, and even my own body chafes and irritates me in all the wrong places like a suit that's not too big or too small but not actually a suit at all and something more incongruous like a fishing net or a refrigerator. I make lots of plans now.
Thank god for a new, almost comically tragic CD by the Decemberists. I can be safe in the knowledge that the only person on this earth who is even sorrier for himself for no apparent cause isn't about to stop anytime soon. I might have to fork over $30 to see them live. I'll probably get a seat in the back, though. Concerts are loud anyway, and I hate the crush of people on the floor.
A story idea came to me in a dream, whole and richly woven, but I don't know how to make it mean something.
Thank god for a new, almost comically tragic CD by the Decemberists. I can be safe in the knowledge that the only person on this earth who is even sorrier for himself for no apparent cause isn't about to stop anytime soon. I might have to fork over $30 to see them live. I'll probably get a seat in the back, though. Concerts are loud anyway, and I hate the crush of people on the floor.
A story idea came to me in a dream, whole and richly woven, but I don't know how to make it mean something.