You know I don't mean it anymore livejournal.
We're just playing with you corpse.

Now I am single. Life moves on.

Nothing to report.

"We haven't slept for weeks. Drink some of this, it'll put color in your cheeks."

that my lack of inspiration to write is a lack of feeling left inside of me.

Your hips felt good in my hands.
Your head felt good on my chest.
Your lips felt good on mine.
I missed you.

I wish we met more nice girls.

I am a good fisherman.

Yesterday I was happy. Today I am sad.

It's funny, I was going to post something here, and then I realized that it was more of a facebook post. It's like I don't have enough angst for you right now livejournal. But I get a little depression or something, you'll be the first to know.