oh, and
herbal cigarettes, 14 days without alcohol, i come home and want to fall asleep forever, j in cardiff, static static, ask me how i am, **** ***** ** ***, your hair on my pillow your smell on my sheets, i am no good at the thing i do the most, knowing i am secretly an "operative" at heart, but probably quite a good one, several green wings a night, was that really steve playing the banjo, i miss my father, i feel as though i am only now entering the abyss that is my 20s where alcohol and friends are the only things that get you by, there are four computers two keyboards and two mice at the desk in my living room, receiving local govt journals thru my letterbox, phil leaving a box of strawberry tea on my workstation, me singing old foo fighters songs whenever i'm alone & liking it & scared, my postgrad studies beginning, me asking you: am i cut out for this?