as tired as i am

i wont go to bed for a few more minutes.
i abandoned the myspace blogger for this sleek black bitch. mmmm.

heres to the morning colors staining the sky right now out the window.

there are times when im out, looking around, noticing lines in the faces of my friends... when i wonder what the hell all this is about. the great scheme of things. and i have no magical book [or a towel at that] and no clue. and all i can say is uh huh and all i can do is nod sheepishly while i wonder what was just said. to fall in the middle of a conversation can prove fatal.

but.....

yes.

i sent a message to the roommate about the things in my head. i fear that he may not be too happy with what i had to say. part of me knows that the icy comings in the next fews hours/days will hurt, but part of me is telling me to get a fucking backbone and own up when it comes to certain situations. its high time i start doing this. i need to quit being the shit taker and the pushover. i can prove to be too easy sometimes. and that is not real nice for the ol security and stability issues im drowning in. fuck sometimes. well dont i just have it all figured out. right. yet i do nothing most times. go me.

death cab for cutie is my new favorite band. im on the emo bandwagon and we're set to cry cry cry.

fun.

i feel the intense need to curl up right now on cool tile and just do that. its not the best of feeling but typical day ending like for me. god. maybe i should have stayed on the pills. ive said this before.... and i never really put much into it really, its kind of one of those sayings. the ones that slip out and are immediately forgotten. but now im really thinking and i just dont know. im no doctor. and the people who are think i belong on the pretty white and blue capsules.

who the fuck knows.

all i can think about is

-how lonely i am right now.
-california
-spiderman 3. ugh.
-the song im listening to. and how pretty his voice is.
-drunk touches.
-work.
-my dwindling artistic drive. [sadness]
-how bad i just want to fucking bleed. [this is a scary thought. no one really knows how much]
-broken clay pots.
-sex. [what? Vonnegut themed, nothing more]
-thomas edisons dog.
-the fact that abe has to be at work in an hour and a half.
-my eyes. they fucking hurt.
-my head. that hurts too.
-the selfish aspects of people. and the blinding demon that is bitterness.
-the sound of the keys, and me finally noticing how much i adore that sound.
-"Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now, if he called to her, she would run to him. She would have no choice. Newt did stop. He did turn. He did call. "Catharine," he called. She ran to him, put her arms aroud him, could not speak."
-the rest of the stories in welcome to the monkey house.
-me. and all that is me.
-316 hours of community service.



im lame with my fucking lists.

sleep.

come here.