Jan. 11th, 2011

vicarz: (Fat cell (from giantmicrobes.com))
Ask me if I'm going to let a little snow keep me from going to psychotronic and watching night of the bloody apes? You betcha!
vicarz: (I'm SO gawth!)
At some point it stopped being cute, but before that point I stopped caring as much. I'm not arrogant enough to say I don't care - I'm not lying, I just care less than what I feel from chemicals like sex or liquids. I'm learning humility in spades, yet the confidence that comes with not caring as much is downright obnoxious.

No conclusions. I don't know a damn thing but that I don't know nuthin
or speak in dialect. Sounds more important or deep somehow though.
Like when you start a sentence wrong or end on a preposition to.

I know nothing but wow is everyone else stupid. It's amazing - makes me want another drink.

I'm torn - I feel like writing but the words that express how I feel are simple. The feeling is larger than the substance and that's ok. The thing...the thing that concerns me is how regular that has become. I'm pretty sure something has to change.

Sigh. Mortality in my hands is so cliche. Yay, burning star power. Yawn.

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