Damn... damn damn damn damn. Why can't I write on this damned site anymore. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm still rooting about like I have nothing better to do. I really am not sure what is going on. There is laundry to do... There is 'art' to produce... There are books to read... There are new and exciting people to meet.
Sitting.
I'm still... entranced in something I won't remember the next time I write here. What am I up to? Where have I been? Why are things as such? Wow... what pointless questions. (Should I delete this?) Shit... I'm not sure of much still... I fell like I still need some vacation from myself and the mess I've made of it. Only on a personal level mind you. When it comes down to it, the only real thing one should focus on and ridicule, is the self. You're only to blame. Figure out where the doppelgänger is and murder it. It's hard to be tried for your own death... evspecialy when you're still living.
What? What was that... ? No wonder I'm not writing.... what a bunch of rubbish.
I need a writing stimulus. I need pig-tails.
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