State of Affairs 8-11-05
Sick as a dog.
About to move yet again.
Preparing to sink into the abyss of academia.
Sore.
Tired.
Broke.
Waiting for inspiration and finding only bad TV.
It is raining in Chicago and I like it. The sky is gray and it makes perfect sense. I haven’t smoked a cigarette in four days, which is leading me to believe it might be best to just put them away for good. My body hurts and I can’t seem to get my head to focus. I feel cotton behind my eyes, insulating my mind, making it difficult to process thoughts. I could use a year of sleep but I must dance for the man. Life is as pointless as a beach ball bouncing through a sewer of shit.
About to move yet again.
Preparing to sink into the abyss of academia.
Sore.
Tired.
Broke.
Waiting for inspiration and finding only bad TV.
It is raining in Chicago and I like it. The sky is gray and it makes perfect sense. I haven’t smoked a cigarette in four days, which is leading me to believe it might be best to just put them away for good. My body hurts and I can’t seem to get my head to focus. I feel cotton behind my eyes, insulating my mind, making it difficult to process thoughts. I could use a year of sleep but I must dance for the man. Life is as pointless as a beach ball bouncing through a sewer of shit.
posted by ZombieDante at 8:24 AM
<< Home