Monday, June 15, 2009

Failed plan is fail.

Well, yes I do. Well yes I do!
Of course, it doesn't matter at all what I do if you're not in this with me, right?
Oh, sigh, I picked up a bad habit and lost this good one, here.
I can no longer draw, write, speak, smoke weed, remember dreams... Besides all that, my lungs which heave and hack up fucking yellow shit every 20 minutes beg me to give up with cigarettes. But fuck 'em.
Holy shit, what the fuck was I thinking? Wait, WAS I?
Haha fucking ha.
I miss you. Please come back. I'm sick of missing people who'll never even remember me.
But regardless, please come home.
I need you.
Let the sickness run down your legs.


  1. I hate it when i read your writing and wish you meant me.
    i wish i wasn't so arrogant.
    or maybe i wish i was more important.

  2. Maybe I did/do mean you.
    You confused me on that last part. Arrogance, without belief of self-importance? What is this shit?

  3. well, clearly, the Architect is undecided about which extreme he leans towards.
    he'd much rather just lean towards a friendly shoulder these days ^^.

    Ps. UGH, that doesn't sound like my writing at all, this project has really taken the fight out of me. At least it all ends at 4pm today when we submit.

  4. You never give up the cigarettes, don't worry.
    Fuck the lungs indeed.

    Love. :)