(no subject)
sigh.
okee, so i went to florida for werk.
which was iight.
everyones so obese down there because at 5 o'clcok at night everything closes and the only thing open is fucking fast food.
and unfortunatly there werent many sailors present.
the only person that hit on me was the fucking pizza boy the first night. dayum.
a whole naval base of sailors and not one smile. motherfuckers.
eesh. i fucked up. again, of course.
i dont even mind anymore.
for some reason i really enjoy fucking myself over and getting myself otu of it.
lets see if i can squirm out of this one.
if i dont, im off to canada -- even if i do im off to canada-
but i never want to hear you say his name.
fuckers.
ineverwanttohearit.
you have no idea what im dealing with, darling.
im trying to fix fix fix fix myself
but this degrading things gotsta change or imma plunge head first into concrete.
or something of that nature.
my psychi says i escape.
escape escape escape.
i do everything in excess--
addiction is silly.
florida was the first time in a VERY long time i havent intoxicated for five days stright. although i was promised pina coladas and sailors trying to take advantage of me at bars.
vomit.
empty always seems to come back to haunt me. everytime. ill never be whole.
empty empty empty.
i dont think ill ever understand how to make myself happy.
but i love traveling. not the part where i do anything in a different place-- i love love love the act-- trainrides, airplanes, buses, cars, everything.
i cant read on bikes but i love biking.
going from one place to another-- zonnnnning.
ESCAPING.
shit.
2 aeroplane trips and im home... home sweet motherfucking home.
reality, sort of.
i want to dissapear into your skin.
blend into your soul.
in due time, ill be perfect.
okee, so i went to florida for werk.
which was iight.
everyones so obese down there because at 5 o'clcok at night everything closes and the only thing open is fucking fast food.
and unfortunatly there werent many sailors present.
the only person that hit on me was the fucking pizza boy the first night. dayum.
a whole naval base of sailors and not one smile. motherfuckers.
eesh. i fucked up. again, of course.
i dont even mind anymore.
for some reason i really enjoy fucking myself over and getting myself otu of it.
lets see if i can squirm out of this one.
if i dont, im off to canada -- even if i do im off to canada-
but i never want to hear you say his name.
fuckers.
ineverwanttohearit.
you have no idea what im dealing with, darling.
im trying to fix fix fix fix myself
but this degrading things gotsta change or imma plunge head first into concrete.
or something of that nature.
my psychi says i escape.
escape escape escape.
i do everything in excess--
addiction is silly.
florida was the first time in a VERY long time i havent intoxicated for five days stright. although i was promised pina coladas and sailors trying to take advantage of me at bars.
vomit.
empty always seems to come back to haunt me. everytime. ill never be whole.
empty empty empty.
i dont think ill ever understand how to make myself happy.
but i love traveling. not the part where i do anything in a different place-- i love love love the act-- trainrides, airplanes, buses, cars, everything.
i cant read on bikes but i love biking.
going from one place to another-- zonnnnning.
ESCAPING.
shit.
2 aeroplane trips and im home... home sweet motherfucking home.
reality, sort of.
i want to dissapear into your skin.
blend into your soul.
in due time, ill be perfect.