One of these again.
I have decided I should write a book about my life.
Unfortunately I think it would be marketed at fiction.
I do not ride in the middle of things, apparently. I do not settle in the land of average. Oh no. For me, it is really amazing and really shitty. For example, I got an email back from James Moran this evening. He's a writer on Torchwood next season. I could throw up with bliss.
Or maybe that's the mind splitting headache that is keeping me from the block away club I wanted to hop to and catch a dance at for like an hour tonight. The last shot of my seven blend rum that my mom offered me after she found out about the parking ticket and pointless rush to work this morning has proved to neither be a cure for my head or my irritation. What the hell mom. We have 109348 kinds of alcohol I'll never drink that you gradually piss away every day. I drink a tiny bit of my rum once every few weeks. This is the example of us. I save. She doesn't. She takes. Bitch.
I have decided that birthdays are evil rotten little things that enhance the crappiness of every day life. I deal with this shit all the time. Second I acknowledge my birthday it suddenly, exponentially, rains down the suck.
More to say, but head is cracking open.
Love to my homies, thank you all for trying.
Unfortunately I think it would be marketed at fiction.
I do not ride in the middle of things, apparently. I do not settle in the land of average. Oh no. For me, it is really amazing and really shitty. For example, I got an email back from James Moran this evening. He's a writer on Torchwood next season. I could throw up with bliss.
Or maybe that's the mind splitting headache that is keeping me from the block away club I wanted to hop to and catch a dance at for like an hour tonight. The last shot of my seven blend rum that my mom offered me after she found out about the parking ticket and pointless rush to work this morning has proved to neither be a cure for my head or my irritation. What the hell mom. We have 109348 kinds of alcohol I'll never drink that you gradually piss away every day. I drink a tiny bit of my rum once every few weeks. This is the example of us. I save. She doesn't. She takes. Bitch.
I have decided that birthdays are evil rotten little things that enhance the crappiness of every day life. I deal with this shit all the time. Second I acknowledge my birthday it suddenly, exponentially, rains down the suck.
More to say, but head is cracking open.
Love to my homies, thank you all for trying.