Entry one hundred forty six - I love the way you put me in the big house.
It's colder than shit in the house again, and is 22 degrees outside. I hate the fucking snow. I think I use being cold as an excuse to dress like a slob, merely to layer on more clothes and simply not give two shits.
I think I am always apprehensive to post here, because I feel as if the people who lurk here.. are always here. I feel as if I am at a book reading standing on my pedestal reading aloud from a shitty novel that no one want to hear. And then to make it worse, I have the guilt associated with this account because it is permanent, and I paid to keep this shit forever. And what to say? I never really had an inner poet. Or novelist. Or anything worth listening to in the long run.
I think I am always apprehensive to post here, because I feel as if the people who lurk here.. are always here. I feel as if I am at a book reading standing on my pedestal reading aloud from a shitty novel that no one want to hear. And then to make it worse, I have the guilt associated with this account because it is permanent, and I paid to keep this shit forever. And what to say? I never really had an inner poet. Or novelist. Or anything worth listening to in the long run.