(no subject)
dos days till backness. and work is finally gone and i either found a friend a job or pushed a pour soul in. i think its the former, but well see how long he works there. now that i can sleep in, i can stay up doing whatnot. but i feel the guilt of supposed to clean my house for my stuff as well as niceness to mudder. but im going to smoke in that almost finished house where the kitchen still doesnt have a wall. need a drink for that too, but totally mark my shit before the house is finished. a total of 850,000 was spent on that house across the street and i need to leave somethin, even if its just ash and piss. and finishin my musical imports. so much to do, but i need to be temple of elemental evil before i do anything else, as otherwise ill still feel the compulsion up in appleweight. journals are such odd things. i dont know my feelings on this anymore. i liked writing in my journal fr the first month or so where i didnt tell anyone i had one and was just waiting for the first day when someone would either stumble upon/ask me about it. but lately i dont feel i have anythin to say. maybe having to go the park influences it, but i just feel like what should i say. audible is so much better. oh,