Sorry

Sorry to everyone who commented on the post with the Jefferson Airplane song, blogger isn't letting me view the comments...lame.

boo

Crappy few days here, but hopefully I'll still get to go to Nordegg this weekend. Sorry, I don't have much enthusiasm. I was advised to switch to open studies and drop all of my classes before finals, which would be awesome cause then I would literally spend the next month or so doing jack shit, which is always nice. Anyway, Jillan and I are going to Value Village tomorrow and I'm psyched.

feeling ineffable

LIVE for today and pray, pray, pray that there is a tomorrow.

I really wish someone would look inside me to see if everything is working okay.

the annimal inside of me?

BACK home there was a girl I used to date named Annie Goodman. I really do believe, and I know when this comes out of the mouth of a child it is often thought of as meaningless due to the lack of experience and maturity of the speaker, but I really do believe I am quite in love with her. I was before and I am still. If anything now I feel more strongly about her. It makes me sad to be away from her. I think about us all the time. Not actually all the time, but multiple times during the day. When I wake up and before I fall asleep, every time I see a girl wearing glasses or who is short or who has a hot ass. I wish and I dream...

THE only thing I can (seemingly) recall seriously dreaming about being, not just the becoming, is a writer.

I am feeling very alone. It's overwhelming. I've started smoking much more than I used to (a social crutch in my mind) and am constantly craving artificial escape. I guess it really is my own fault, seeing as I was evicted from my prior residence and thus successfully isolated myself from everyone that I knew. But still, I just feel that no one is seeking out my company. Which stinks. I miss my friends. I miss commandeering the attention of the group and talking until someone stops me. I miss acid. I miss getting high before school. And during school. And after school. And in my room. And in the shower. Fuck, I miss getting in trouble. I miss having someone want to know where I am and what I'm doing. But mostly I just miss being able to vent all my crappy emotions. I was about to, but the timing didn't work out. Oh well, maybe it's a sign? Unlikely, a coincidence is the word I was searching for. Funk, it's late. I need my sleep. I'm getting sick.

THIS is really just an outlet for me.

ON a lighter note, I just downloaded Jillan's friend's mixtape "Pré: Everyday." He is actually much, much more talented than I originally pegged him to be. The pretentious side of me showing right there.