(no subject)

This is pathetic. I am well-rested, have spent time with friends, fixed everything that actually needed fixing and then some, and am in a pretty good mood. This means I don't have a thing to write! Misery breeds literature?

My god you LJ people are a self-indulgent lot! Only you could be so fascinated by: those clothes, that stage of your life, your childhood, that tv show, that game, that part of your body, that look, that smell - good god get the fuck over yourselves! When will you idiots realize that those things are only fascinating when they're about me?

(no subject)

I live within walking distance of the Iwo Jima memorial. There is a 21 gun salute going off right now. Another family standing in the grass, another group that lost a friend overseas for some rich white guy's oil war. Working by day I forget how many of these there are here now.