the thing is, this kid was probably really fucking excited. he probably couldnt wait for it all to start. and i was just sitting there, bummed out that i had to pee into a cup again. am i pleased? maybe? was it hard? no. it wasnt a feet. it wasnt a gash. i feel so much the same that i’m kind of depressed about it. i havent told really anybody and i keep forgeting to. then, when i remember to, i dont? i feel exactly the same. so i’m plunging myself into that shit as soon as i can. i want to stop feeling and start faking it so that i can become this grostesque figure that doesnt even know what’s stupid or not. i’ll become this lame ass influencial piece of work, and all the people that knew me will hate me, and all the people that meet me will love me. why would i do this? i would do this because i want to forget that we were ever as close as we were. i’ve gone two weeks and i care too much. i want to move on and away from everything i am and was. it’s gone too far, and it’s not that i’m sick of it, i just dont know what i want anymore. there was never an item, i was just sticking out everywhere. my hands are sticky, there’s shit all over my face. this isnt what i want. i find that i let myself look and feel like shit, and for what? i have no idea. no one likes me this way, they just tolerate, that’s what friends do. i want outta here. i wanna lighten up and quit picking my nose. there’s a right way and a wrong way. there’s a good way and there’s a bad way. there’s a give up and a boost. i’ve always been a lot less positive than you. i’ve always hated you for that. i dont want to tell you that i want to feel and look different because that would mean i put it out there. the thought would be flying around everywhere and getting in our faces. we’d then have to swat it out of the way and that would just be a bother. so.. wouldja just couldja just shoot me?