(no subject)
I decided to im gonna go friends only and delete people off my friends list I dont really talk to anymore. I have creepy stalkers I dont know or dont even talk to at all anymore that read my entries and some how for whatever reasons, start rumors from them, or take my personal opinions to heart, this has been happening for years and I suspect that even if I go friends only someone on my friends list is helping them read my shit. Get a life, you fucking psycho's(thats how its spelt by the way), you sad pieces of shit that suck at life, and are so involved with me and I forget your even alive.
anyway,
Im reading this really good book written by a successful songwriter about his life story in the music business. I browsed through it at the book store and happened to read the chapter where he talked about leaving home for California to further his music 'career'. I had to buy it.
He has great advice and his stories match my own to the T. Its so insane and yet comforting that im not the only one that acts psycho about my own ideas. Its like im reading my own book I havent released yet.
However the last few chapters started lagging because he got into just writing music for Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys which is not really my field, obviously. So hes a millionaire and I lose the connectivity.
I have FIVE cold sores in my mouth, two of them are healing though. It hurts very much to eat and talk. meh.
Fucking Christmas. I remember in 7th grade I got a present from my computers class teacher(yeah the class was called 'computers') and to this day I dont know what it was. It was made of stone and looked like it was meant to hold floppy drives or something, but even zip disks barely wouldnt fit. Not that I knew what a zip disk was back then, but still. Imaging a flat, square cup of stone with little stone lizards attached to it, only with a huge slit cut out of the center of one side. hmmm... it sat around my room and was never used till i dropped and broke it years later.
anyway,
Im reading this really good book written by a successful songwriter about his life story in the music business. I browsed through it at the book store and happened to read the chapter where he talked about leaving home for California to further his music 'career'. I had to buy it.
He has great advice and his stories match my own to the T. Its so insane and yet comforting that im not the only one that acts psycho about my own ideas. Its like im reading my own book I havent released yet.
However the last few chapters started lagging because he got into just writing music for Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys which is not really my field, obviously. So hes a millionaire and I lose the connectivity.
I have FIVE cold sores in my mouth, two of them are healing though. It hurts very much to eat and talk. meh.
Fucking Christmas. I remember in 7th grade I got a present from my computers class teacher(yeah the class was called 'computers') and to this day I dont know what it was. It was made of stone and looked like it was meant to hold floppy drives or something, but even zip disks barely wouldnt fit. Not that I knew what a zip disk was back then, but still. Imaging a flat, square cup of stone with little stone lizards attached to it, only with a huge slit cut out of the center of one side. hmmm... it sat around my room and was never used till i dropped and broke it years later.