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shit its been a year.almost.
i think im at a better state now.
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shit im 24 now. getting older. its a fucking celebration and all my friends want to get me drunk. friends indeed (sarcasm). at least they listened when i said no shots. i need something better at this point in my life.
hopefully soon.
i shall sleep now, study tomorrow to feel better.
get my shit squared away.
you will see.
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Video
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the Centipede song video.
happy nightmares.
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i am just the person people run to when shit is bad for them.
recent realization.
from now on, its going to be about my brain, my stomach, my heart, my dick, my worries, my ambitions, my feelings.
this trashcan for you to vomit in is not available anymore.
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Photo




Brion Gysin - Danger: Portrait of William S. Burroughs in Front of the Théâtre Odeon (1959)
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“I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.”
—JOHN GREEN, LOOKING FOR ALASKA
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