this journal is bunk. right now i think that most things i feel like expressing to the masses are shallow, boring, and nobody really cares. like the weather. or this badass book i'm reading. so. whoever still reads this. stop. the end.

holland hall.suckit.
everyone else.gofuckyourself.
except for the few 31337.
i'm leaving for portland.&.i can't say that i ever want to come back.
everyone really does suck though.
this is going nowhere.

uh. school sucks.
i need more sleep.
and money!!!

my mind is blown.
mostly by the acid.
and fried from the xanax.
and hazy from the pot.
but life is interesting again,
even with this new routine settling in.

on a different note, there is a new mob in town.
by invite only.
it's pretty sweet.
we smoke alot of pot.
and make each other sick.

i moved out of my house.

the only thing that makes last night real are the cuts, bruises, and aches covering my body. ow.

...
i totally saw this coming.
ow.
i think i'll recede into hard drug use and television for a while.
....
....
fuck...

MY FRIENDS ARE GYPSIES!!!

I lost my keys last night. Only the second time in the past week that my keys have gone MIA ( Read more... )

i spend more time at your'e house than mine now.
hm.
i don't have to be fucked up all the time to enjoy your company.
but its just as pleasnt when i'm wasted.
<3.
shit.
i'm still emo even though i'm not sad...

but whatever.
it doesn't even matter anymore.