First Time Blank
<< 10:47 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2004 >>
18 is a big tiny number. Fuck if I know what it means in the long run.

Who can we trust when these connections are so close and tight and false? I just can�t let loose with words today. Fucking cryptic as hell, but probably only very transparent. Dammit. Maybe the closer ones will know.

I just feel tired with nowhere to let it go. It�s a relief in all the wrong ways, and it shouldn�t be. You�re not supposed to survive without the internals. Origin of mitosis left us. My cloned father and I left to laugh at Ferrell and his empty headed antics. He�s off with a beer and a complainer. I want a cigar to puff away at and a piece of metal in my eyebrow.

I want that safety I haven�t felt in a long while. This reed has been bending; this reed has been exposed to the elements for so long. Oh, I just want some time. Put me in a pot and let me come indoors. I want the warmth and consistency of love and friendship and family. I�m temporarily wretched with reverberations of anger, paranoia, and angst.