Well I Don't Know What I'm Looking For, But I Know That I Know That I Just Wanna Look Some More

I'm so fucking stupid. Yes, yes I am. My phone is tucked in the ankle of my Nikes waiting for it ring... but it won't. You wanna know why it won't? Because I'm fucking stupid. I had a short stint in the land of bees and honey, opportunities abounded, and I blew them all. Wanna know why? You don't, but I'll tell you anyway. One. I drank too much. Two. I was bound literally for six months, and figuratively for another sixteen, it fucked me up, and made me burst into a nascent oblivion and make mistakes once freed. Yet in the the spirit of not lying, it felt good, damn good. Why else do it all? A creature of habit, a scoundrel of impulse, a demon of sin, a man of action, that is I, and I am me. Well, in that mood anyway.

However, I digress from my main point here; I fucked up, and what it was, I'll always know. I can deal with the random sluts hating me, and beyond that I can assure myself that Michele will always be cool with me. Also, I can be slightly upset that Gomez is disappointed with me, but the way that I lost a woman named Milli's faith in me is shitty. Quite sure I'm blowing this out of proportion, and she gives two shits about me at this point in time, but after what I did, it's hard to gauge the truth. People conceal feelings, shield their hearts, find hard to expose; but that's my mistake, not hers. Anyways, I still feel bad about it, and for what? Something that could've been shot into a forty minute ass to mouth porno scene. I do that for a living now, and I stay behind the camera because I don't care for that nonsense these days.

The last month of fucking eight different people in that time frame just seems sad and boring to me now. I'd been there before and yet forgotten about it due to a two year relationship, but back then it felt like a job. In the beginning of this latest jaunt it felt good, yet towards the end, it felt like an obligation, and I'm glad it's over with. Substance, substance my friends, that's what it's all about. I met someone genuine and I fucking blew it. Hence the lambasting of myself.

However, this is my catharsis. This how I get it out and deal. It's all fucked now and yet I'm not entirely sure why. She's too busy, she hates me, she doesn't give a fuck, or she's just like me and doesn't like to talk to people unless we're going to see them in person. But for my own selfish reasons I had to get it out.

Anyways, time to finish listening to this good music, finish this good drink, wake up, do some reading, hit the skate park with Wolf, do happy hour at Casey's, and do prep for the most kickass house party Tempe's ever seen. Good night y'all.