January 26th, 2005
110674909316774811
Fan/groupie/friend/loser
It’s eleven o’clock. I’ve been home for forty-five minutes. This is early. Ya know, I kind of know what I want, but I’m so screwed up right now in the head it’s like I took a two-by-four to the right side of my face and one eye is swollen shut. People keep telling me it’s ok, but I don’t even know “what” is ok.
In the ignorance of youth, I used to indulge when I was depressed. Then I did that enough to realize that the indulgence really didn’t make anything better past an hour or two, and after I got off the support of my parents I couldn’t afford it anymore. So now I not only miss out on the indulgence, but I get to be cynical about it its ineffectuality.
I’m really disappointed with the lack of self-control I carry. I can’t keep an honest heart about anything, I think WAY TOO MUCH about everything, and my resources are so divided and my situation so seemingly desperate, all it takes is a puff of wind blowing from the other way to knock me flat and wreck my sense of direction. I thought experience was supposed to make you wise, but I only seem to be devoting an increasingly large amount of energy towards not being jaded.
Why do I have to be terminally broken?
There goes my hero
Watch him as he goes
There goes my hero
He�fs ordinary
