Tuesday, March 18, 2008


The time is 12:39 am.

I have a headache. What adjective shall I use to describe it? Hmm...let's try screaming. Yes. It feels like a tiny, tiny man is screaming just behind my eyes. Not just any scream -- this is a blood-curdling, spine-chilling, hair-raising, Kurt Cobain in "Scentless Apprentice," wake the dead kinda scream, you dig what I'm saying. A bad fucking headache.

Excessive noise + frustration = headache. Remember this -- it will be on the final, which is sixty percent of your grade.

Service: I got home a few minutes ago, planning to take some Aleve so I could sleep. I could've taken something at René's, but elected to wait. And of course (you can finish this sentence faster than I can) I don't have any here. I have an empty bottle I forgot to throw away, possibly because my past self wanted to fuck with me.

I'm not going to remember writing this post in the morning. Which is why I have to write it now. So that I can be reminded. Like Sammy Jankis.

I'm really not sure why I'm writing this. I'm even less sure why you're reading it.

Now playing: René Alvarado - III - Wallowing Redemption
via FoxyTunes

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