so... the art show was... well, it was something. I wish I was showing with someone less talented than Ishmael. Then my work might look decent. Thank you to everyone that came. Fuck off and die to everyone that didn't.
I WISHED ON A STAR AND IT SHOT ME IN THE EYE And now I cry... >because I'm worthless because images are all I have because I've forgotten what it feels like to be loved
Thirty Seven was the hour when I broke my will. It was the hour when truth became a lie. It was the hour I loathed. The hour I suffered. The hour I wondered if there was a person under this mask of departure.
I doubt it, I really do. I'm drowning I'm sedate. I'm an advocate of turmoil.
So... Operation: Through Nathan a party was a complete success. I spend an ungodly amount of money on whiskey. Nathan was sick and passed out early. Classic. I looked wonderfully funderfully pink.
But anywho... It's days like today I wish hallucinations never ended. And I wish you could silence me.
Cosmic wanderings, the likes of which I rarely act out. Universe at a glance, copmplete with the shadows of a million evaporated hopes. Cruci(fiction) in the sky./