You make my head hurt sometimes. Or my chest. Sometimes both.

I want to protect you, but you like to be reckless.

I'm tired, and spent many hours at overnight work with nagging thought in the back of my mind.

Maybe I'll think straighter again after bed.

Was a wino...suited the part...

Managed to pin a few friends in combat along the way. Apparently I don't fight in the rules of combat. Since I didn't do a Splinter Cell "Krav Maga" (ie, knee to chest, et cetera), I assumed things were fair.

Dan disagreed later on. Eh.

Life goes on.

Working overnights at Giant Tiger...

Tired.

Time to sleep.

I had a dream a few nights ago where myself and a talking bear were trying to run an opera house in Shakespearean England. I woke feeling very strange ( Read more... )

It's always odd when something that was stronger in the past...is weaker now. And I can sense some friendships slipping, although I can't say for sure if the others sense it as well. Maybe they do. Maybe they don't ( Read more... )

Much better now. My voice is back. Modern medicine gets mad props.

I'm allowed to try that language out. But everytime I do...a friend shakes his head.

I have tonsillitis. It hurts. I'll feel better by Wednesday, I'm told.

Ugh.

Toronto scratched me right where I itched ( Read more... )

Lots of people are gone now. Two years ago, it was all the friends I'd made since grade 9. And now, again, are most of the ones I made after.

I had some reflective thought last night...but it has been forgotten. Sigh.

I'm going to miss you guys.

I was disappointed. Each time I learn about the latest lowering of the bar, I take it as an insult to my influence and my part of your life. You know I don't give up...but it definitely sets me back a few notches.

Fuck it Laurel. Stop doing drugs.