Mood: I'm not sure So I deleted you, after all this time. It was a little bit sad, to some extent, but I felt justified more so than anything else. I sort of feel better in knowing I'm not the one who walked away, as that is the role I usually play in these things. But by playing that role, I usually end up X amount of years down the road, depressed and wondering if what I did was a huge mistake. This time, however, I can sign off on it as someone else's fuck up, thus putting the lights out on any form of depressing nostalgia that may have sprung up from possible past mistakes I've made. Don't get me wrong, I don't enjoy being shat upon, which IS what's happening, but it is rather amusing. It's amusing in some strange way that I don't expect anyone to understand. It's amusing in a way that I'm waiting for a large thunderstorm to tear across my town. And I really love thunderstorms. They certainly do tear, don't they? Some may even shred. I'm hoping this particular storm may even raze. Nothing left. A wasteland, completely desolate of any life. You've lost it all, but I've lost it all so many times that just maybe I'm relieved that it's someone else this time. And who will be there to console you? And who will be there to relieve you? To shine some glimpse of light into the overwhelming darkness that you currently call an existence? Who is it going to be? Who is going to be there when you know that nobody is around because you forgot about them, and they died? We'll all be dead, and you'll be left alone to try to put the pieces back together. Alone. Your eggs are all in one basket. I reflectively laugh as I recall having done that on a number of occasions. I laugh and simultaneously feel sorry for whoever that happens to. It's a bitch to get over.
One thing is for sure
2:16 p.m.//04.24.06
Sound: Annoying birds
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