im in jons house waiting for him to get out of the shower hoping his dad doesnt come home right at this moment and wondering how much half price will give us for our pathetic attempts at books. [me and his dad would have nothing to talk about you see, spare henry rollins apparently] my stomach is killing me. not a scientifically explained pain but more of a im down to 4 cigarettes and i promised i would quit pain. i did it right this time. used the impending disappointment of my friends instead of the pride i would have in myself. i dont care much for pride anyway. [shit shit shit, why did i tell everyone i know i was doing it this time, really fucked myself here. and in the peak of cold smoking weather. fuck] ah well. and guilt trips ALWAYS work better and im sure this time, ill be doing my lungs a favor. they might appreciate it and let me live a little longer eh? i better stop thinking about this. the house im in is lived in, warm and the things hanging on the walls make me wonder if all the talk of broken homes isnt really just a myth we tell our kids to scare them. i wonder. when i walk back outside and the cold wraps around my fingers will i miss the mountains again. too much thought for this little blog. and i hear jonathan coming.