I used to have insomnia nearing the end of my high school career and three years following, on and off. That time was met with tumult and ugliness, but more importantly, really weird pieces.
excerpt posted: 12/30/2008
oh, Bowie, Bowie!
Genetalia & confusion. Bad backs and sore throats, in addition to sour moods and pained gums. Futures look bright evermore in glitzy glam and glimmery gold.
Who knew?
I never knew you, nor your pretensions.
It’s 2AM and a little more than a dozen eggs. Bad pop-rock and broken situations, just get me the fuck out of here!
Framed Chinese calligraphy; pools and pools of clutter. More alcohol.
Whatever it is, it’ll never end.
Love is stronger than dislike, disdain, disappointment, disgust.
Blood is none more than a chemical concoction, is it not?
Ties that bind, ties that destroy.
The more sense it makes, the less it means.
I always said otherwise, but it looks like I WILL be a 9-5, boring office job, I-want-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-here, piece of shit who’s stuck.
Situations run amuck, and I only fly via illusions of what can never be.
Clouds of smoke, rings of exhaust; Snow White, I don’t want you.
Narcoleptic kind of mood.
Where is my mind?
