you, you're a history in rust.

yo yo yo. i have just figured out something really important about myself. get ready for this.
i fucking love the movie pulp fiction. love it, love it, FUCKING love it. and the reason why is because....i am fucking uma thurman's character in that movie. for real. she's so calm and collected but obviously fucked up. and i fucking love her, and i love myself, and goddamn am i fucking amazing. lmao. i just got done smoking weed with my neighbor.

so
my
apologies.

anyways. what did i do today? i kind of feel like writing about my day is not even relevant to why i keep this blog. i'm not really sure why i do it, but the whole "dear diary" format is really not it.

anyways again. so today. i woke up extraordinarily late, got a shower and ready for my day, and decided that i didn't fucking feel like running errands that aren't that important for hours on end. so i just burnt more cds instead. and then my dad came and picked me up, and took me to the mall so he could buy me lots of fancy new clothes. and then i came home, and smoked a j with my neighbor. and that's it. that is my whole day. i don't really feel regret that i can literally summarize my entire day, without leaving anything out, in less than a paragraph. is that bad? i don't fucking know, but i feel pretty damn good. i also got to watch pulp fiction. and now i'm listening to do make say think.
nothing can go wrong.
is it possible that i'm dealing wonderfully with being alone?
.
.
.
.
fuck. i ruined it. why did i have to remind myself that i am sitting in this big, beautiful house with nothing but my computer and my tv for entertainment.
and now i'm back down.
fuck.
fuckkfuck.
i'm not happy.


i will never be truly, completely, and honestly happy.


no one wi ll l.