i have something to write about (reminder to self) bush walking and cocaine, but i shall hesitate to finish this entry, 'til a later point in time. -the later point in time- days go by, snow is diminishing, and i've been bush walking, listening to songs about cocaine. i can't be bothered with rob's shit anymore. i will decide to talk to him via letters only. life has been too short to be fucked around, and i'm sorry, but i'll just end up not giving a fuck. my mother regretably left earlier this fine evening, left to go back to live life around my fastlane. my own red district scene. so sadly, i saw her and kyle off. i hate to know that she's where i'm meant to be and i'm here. i was thinking: i must write. vague intentions of isolating my bare minimum from others' orthodoxy. like beating at a brick wall, one would s'pose i stop. i am becoming obsessive about my requirements: my distractions. currently almost in the process of updating my deviantart. i should post some pictures up on here. hm