Mood: sludgey I haven't felt particularly awful the past couple of days, but I owe most of that to Chino, my baby African Grey that will be old enough to come home in March. He will be the best parrot, ever, in the history of parrotdom--a bold statement that I'm willing to back up. Back to modern-day slavery, tomorrow morning. It was a beautiful 4-day vacation away from the grind. And I will say this--I yearn for the days where I got to stay up until 6am on weekdays, playing video games and smoking bowls with little to no care in the world. Mind, you, this was only about 3 months ago. There's something appealing about the thoughts of wasting my life away, and I'm guessing that appeal derrives from the massaging of my laziness. Knowingly wasting life away can be quite invigorating in that you can sidestep responsibility--something I hate having. If I had to wake up every single day and have no obligations, that'd be the ideal existence for me. It's been years and I was never able to harness the lie that is nihilism, and making it actually work in my life is completely impossible. I know better. I know better and I hate knowing better. Only sometimes. When it's inconvenient.
Shitting harmonicas
8:38 p.m.//01.01.07
Sound: Converge -- Heaven in Her Arms
[previous]������[forward]