Rando S.L.

Right now I feel a little smokey hang over, woke up with blurry vision and blurry thoughts with a scattered itinerary for the day. Still nothing much has been done. I mean I said hi to puppy, fed him, praised him, put my laundry away, listened to music. And it's still morning, which is good, but only for another hour. By the end of the day I need to finish my entire lab write-up (FUCK) and go to the math lab to do at least 80% on my math homework... I've already completed 44%. It doesn't sound like much but it is! At the moment I have no idea where to start, except by smoking a bowl and then starting. That's a silly start seeing as I am already hung over and SO INTO THIS MUSIC that I can't stop now... I need to let it take me somewhere far away for just a little bit so when I come back to this place I feel a little better...

But this music isn't even mine. It isn't even music to some people. It's just one of my distant friend's band and I think they are SO GOOD! I feel like they've been my favorite band forever. But they all just think of me as a random band slut who wants to fuck them. Which may be true, but who cares? That's what I hate about artists sometimes... they are so pretentious and can't appreciate appreciation. Or sometimes they get it confused with other things. I can't fully explain at the moment because I don't care to. I don't REALLY care that they may think that I'm silly for wanting to go to their shows and support their shitty band, but I really do. I appreciate it so much! But they're just a band and it'll be over in a few years, if that. It just reminds me of little things like poetry on Thursdays... Good things go bad after a while. After a random slut comes and fucks it up and exploits it. It's okay, I'll just appreciate it on my own and no one will ever understand. Like always.

I'm most likely not going camping this weekend anymore because I'm sick. It sucks... but this weekend is unfolding out to be not a very good weekend to go away for. I have homework and such that I have been neglecting. I keep having this one person on my mind and it makes my heart palpitate, which makes me think of Brett, which makes me anxious, which makes it worse. I think of Brett because when we broke up he had heart palpitations and such... anxiety... acceptance... reluctance... It scares me when I think about how close we were for that time, but how much we really didn't know each other, and how much wasn't said. What a gap it left for me. When we broke up I felt more empty than I ever have before, even after having a snippet of fulfillment.

Bailey, I remember the process of your outage (?) and the many many hugs and talks we shared. The many questions we asked rhetorically, all the laughs and sobs and anger and angst and bottomless bottles and blunts. I miss you so much! You are so beautiful and radiant... imagine what the city was like with out you or us - not the same AT ALL. I'm so glad we got to experience it together for the first time... and I wish I had something to give you for your birthday, but I don't. I will though, it'll just be really late and when I see it I'll automatically know that it's for you! I remember your birthday last year and throwing up in my bed and waking Vicki up HAHAHAHA...

I don't know what else to say.

Taren's a great poet and I've been reading her poems and I really love them... they would morph well into songs. Self-expression is an amazing thing that not many people know how to do. It is also a very pointless way of dealing with this pointless existence.

Nothing fucking matters. And if the world really is going to end in a couple years, what are we all doing wasting our time going to school and work? It's stupid. Why don't we all just quit everything and hop a train to New York, and once we're there hop a boat to the other side? It's really not that preposterous.