i hear you labeled me a liar.
so heres the deal.
march 12th i leave.
im going on a
and im not coming back.
why?
i dont have a fucking reason too.
im halfass working towards a degree i dont give a shit about.
and neither will anyone else.
im only wasting an assload of someones elses hardearned money.
the money i earn isn't really hardearned, and i waste it on booze.
im not really wasting it though, i love booze.
im really agitated writing this.
i dont even really want to write it.
fuck it.
reading back over this makes my stomach turn.
i can feel the air around me, its fucking hot.
beck says it now, ive heard it before.
i can barely type over the itch to crawl out of my skin.
only i wouldn't have anywhere to fucking go.
satellites.
you ever feel like one day you're gonna be sitting in your room, minding someone elses fucking business, when all of a sudden, like a fucking wrench or flat-head screw driver is gonna crash through your roof and through you like a fucking butter knife or something? some fucking tool that some hourly airplane mechanic(who by the way probably wouldn't walk across the street to piss on your head if it was on fire) forgot to "secure" properly while he was making his inspections and chugging homemade cough syrup like it had the fucking cure it in. i was just wondering, cause every now and then i have this sudden urge to look up as i sidestep. repeatedly.
you think you're happy.
fuck us all.
i heard about that shit on the news once. a fucking hammer or something fell through this womans house. but it didn't hit her.
posted by crimson @ 11:34 PM 
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