...back

feb25/00-1.02am-improv
the day just sort of dragged on and on. halfway through my first class... at about 8.30am, i thought it was already time to go home. (home? who am i joking) by the end of my second class, i was ready to die..... it rained today. it's february and it rained. freaky shit yo. oh god, i'm sorry.
mike picked me up for my spares. we went driving around, trying to buy cigarrettes... he hates that i smoke. why do i torture myself, that's a hypothetical question... don't answer it.
picked up mike and dave, bought alcohol, went back and endured two more useless hours of school... wrote a journal on the plague, wrote a quiz on arithmatic sequences and series....seri...serises.. seruses....
my mike drank by himself for two hours.... school ended. 1.40. mike and mike and me, went to mikes ...is this confusing anyone else.... mike got pissed on ouzo..... drove around, went to georges, ate fries, laughed at the drunken boy... this is the other mike i mean... haha, now i'm just being sadistic........ why am i giving a detail of my day anyways... who knows... who cares... why doesn't my shift key work.... either of them for that matter... we ended up spending three hours in various parking lots while mike proceeded to puke his alcohol ridden guts out and i vainly attempted to keep a record of my thoughts in my head... i'm not even sure i was thinking. just observing. it was raining. increasingly harder.
ended up at dave's at 7. bored bored bored. mike neil dave jordan mike kinsey kelly, brief michelle.
san antonio sweeps sweet sacremento..... what's that from...
how did i end up wasting yet another evening doing absoleutely nothing worthwhile. what's wrong with this picture. definately something.
pause... wait for computer to start working again... wait for humming in my ear to cease...
not-my-mike drove me home. had a conversation... don't recall what about. i remember thinking about how one would go about washing plastic pants if one was fortunate enough to own and fit into a pair. in the machine? by hand? do you?
i have two plastic jackets. bronze and baby blue. the one that cost me $70 fell apart after a year. the one that cost $12 is still in mint condition. and i wear it more often. what's up with that. oh so now my shift keys decide to work, well thank you very much.
so my last twenty dollars has been dedicated to this weekend. i guess i'm fucked for money and too lazy to get another stupid job. oh well. whatcha gonna do. lifes a bitch.
lifes a bitch, and i'm top dog. bullshit karmyhn, bullshit.
we're the underdogs in this society. the angst teens that no one cares about... except our concerned parents, and then only because they have to, thanks for pointing that out.
what's with this dialouge with myself. who is this directed at. steve? you gonna read my journals. are you the only one. mike maybe.
so what's the point of all this after all.
it's official. i'm a goddamn computer junkie. why? why... why... escape? is that is......
is that all...... suppose it could be worse.
.... just one hit! just one fucking little hit!

bbbbbbllllllll aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh..... not even. not even close. not even caring.
my ambition right now is null. i don't even have a desire to get out of my house. i don't even have a desire to travel. or to leave this horrid town.... city... whatever.
i'm dissatisfyed, or would be if i stopped to think about it. i'm tired. tired of this life of mine. it's so repetitive, and disgusting, and pointless.
struggle through school... for what..... what do i want to do. obviously i have to go to uni... obviously..... who would even dare to think differently. i hate that assumption. sometimes i just want to say fuck you all. let me be. at my own rate. at my own pace. just let me be. just let me be......
so tired. and i don't mean just physically.