I hate Sundays too unbelievably much. One, I'm not going to the Monroe show tonight; Two, I nearly got in trouble; Three, I can't do anything next weekend because my perfect doctor sister's coming; Four, I'm still stoned; Five, I broke out like a monkey licked me; Six, I can't remember anything I'm supposed to do for tomorrow and I know there's tons. I'm bored with the whole list thing. But generally I feel pretty fucking awful. Friday night: Rashonda's, Saturday night: Brittany's, Sunday night: here. Lame. I really got lost this weekend. I actually did a lot of thinking which was nice, but I've never let myself get so non stop fucked up. The weekend was good. Smoked a quarter in a two days, bought another eighth today. Smoked, drank, smoked, cleaned, played twista, sat by myself, slept, showad. woah. There's someone I have hope for and that's really reassuring but there's still a kid I want to dig out of their shell and get them to look me in the eye. Woah. I swear I'm a crush whore. I keep feeling really shitty about myself, but I figure it should pass soon. Hopefully. I gotta clean. Shiiiiiiit. I feel yuck. And I can't hang out next weekend. Fuck. I've gotta go clean or something. arrrrsch. oh but señora special secret, you seriously are the greatest. i can't express i words how much i envy you. you are a lucky star. shiiiiiiineee on nigga.