Last night I realized I was dreaming. For some reason, the only thing I chose to do was create a book of matches out of thin air and light a couple of them.

and that's alright, just... keep... smiling

Have worked for nearly 40 of the past 96 hours, my body kinda hurts.

I won't keep what I can't catch in my bare hands without a net

low pressure, high comfort level

don't make the world a worse place

beware the ides of march

New Year's Eve, 2011: Sitting on the boards outside which are cold and grainy under my feet, smoking a bowl. There are raw drunken hollers from the people outside the house behind the fence. I catch one intriguing exclamation ("YOU BITCH!! GIVE ME BACK MY MACHETE HAT!") before I'm lost in thought ( Read more... )

I keep waking myself up by banging my head against my wall or my nightstand. I haven't been enjoying it much.

life is good :)