I’m in the middle of a burning orgy – 30 discs on their way to the post office by the time my orders are fulfilled. I swear, after this crowd of requests, I’m going to stop. HONEST! I’m stopping. Right after…I get some more blanks. And use those.
Haha – I sounded like a smoker just now. “After the pack I’m about to go buy, I’m gonna quit!” You weakass bitches know who you are.
An amusing blurb from my friend’s LJ:
I walk into Autmn’s room and she is laying on her bed listening…
“What’s this?” I ask, as I make my way to the black chair.
With eyes closed and hands laying at her side,
“Classical does Radiohead.” And she smiles.
Readers will notice I haven’t had much to say, and I am wrestless inside a white box. I just want to run over
HERE AND PUT SOME HSGYSGDYUSGFUSYGFSJHDKSHFKJHFKJFJHFSKFKSFJKHFKJSFHKJSFHKJGHF>SFK>HFKSFH
…………………………..and then run over here, where my brain has been recorded and take my hand and aodfhoafbecause for some reaonssdghsudhgsjhgjhfgjshgidont likewhatI’vegottosaykjshdgjhdjhskdskdjghsitsnotenoughdfgkdhkdgkjdghsdkjdfghkjsdhgkjdhgkdgjsdhkghsdkghsd
I have a document written up from a previous night that I may or not post. It depends. I’m not sure it’s morally strong to take something you know is bad and serve it up like birthday mud.
Cause I’m fine now. Now, I can dish it with a sharp server and apron on.
I am all over the place. I should come back later, when it’s dark and unmoving. It’ll be nice. I’ll be here – or, have been, and you can observe the traces. Scary thought:
she does watch some of you. Sits high on a line and looks down on your homely fuckin’ excuses for spillage.
Keeps me warm. Ungrounded, of course. But warm.
You’re her favorite dead end electrons.