Man sometimes it is the morning and I would just rather not deal, not with getting up and showering and drying and clothing myself and making coffee so strong it eats away at my stomach lining the way my other drugs eat at my liver and lungs and getting all my shit together and getting in the car and smoking a cigarette I don't enjoy and burning my mouth on the coffee and parking on Charleston and walking 10-15 minutes on the same route every day and sweating and being really bored by the people walking by and getting to class barely on-time and watching a really decent old movie and staring at the dread-y head of the guy in front of me who I think has a slow plan to strike up a conversation with me someday because he keeps borrowing my pen very cordially, very cordially, and when the movie's over I wander in a slow circle around Andrews and smoke and watch the buzzlebees and butterfrees who drone and meander in the flowerbeds, and some more people bore me, then I either go change in the bathroom and go to one job or I've gone home and changed and gone to the other, then I work, then I come home, then I cook food, then I sit around and eat and drink because during all this time I haven't eaten or drank (besides the coffee).
This is really boring to read probably but man I don't know, for the past few days I keep sitting down to write something in this thing and I get going and going and pretty soon these entries turn into epic, detailed accounts of such as my childhood or stupid shit like this where far too many details are chronicled in attempts to (FOOTAGE LOST)
and it's boring, and stupid, so I just close the browser window. But here's this one I guess.
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