oh, fuck it. im feeling uninspired. and homesick.

thus, no riveting journal entry this evening.

"what's the rush? dip your brush into this twilight. there are leaves upon the skylight. trace your hand, trace your hand. mr red, he shot a head, shot a head inside a circle. on a bad day who would you kill? take a stand, trace your hand."

you should call me.

i love you, miss you, and will support you no matter what.

from this point on my journal will consist only of positive comments regarding what i have accomplished throughout the course of the day ( Read more... )

in no particular order ( Read more... )

me: you know... when you were getting ready to leave last time you were here... and i leapt into bed... and you said you thought that was cute... that was the best thing ever ( Read more... )

http://mr-31238.mr.valuehost.co.uk/assets/Flash/psychic.swf

should i know how this works?

"i woke up from a dream. i could've sworn i heard the phone. fan's blowing in the corner like it does when she's at home. familiar desperate feeling, always cold and dark inside. i'll probably sit here hoping soon that she'll be by my side ( Read more... )

"my distraction's my defense
against a lack of inspiration
against a slow leak deflation
the further the horizon
the more it holds my gaze
and the foreground's out of focus
but you know i kinda hope it's just a phase."