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Location: Laramie, Wyoming, United States

You write to breathe, for the air is too thin to hold words. You hide in false memories because reality is for to compromising. You dream to see, and speak to hear. There is no independent variable, just writing that feeds itself, always drowning. You stare down at your bleeding hand, sitting on a rock billions of years old, surrounded by trees and snow. The wind howles through evergreens, in your mind you can imagine the chirping of woodland animals had they not gone extinct. You watch the sun dip beneath the skeletons of deciduous trees, and your shadow casts across the lichen. This is neither empty nor full, it is. The hum of the interstate lies just over the next rock, you can hear it echo, reminding you that this place has been touched.

Friday, July 22, 2005

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Car's broken down. Rent is probably on me again this month. Once again money's falling from my pocket in Vegas and I have yet to gamble. Waiting for the tow truck to call. Can't call first because I would sound desperate. The job at the bio-place is at risk again due to the verification process, hopefully will be resolved by Monday.

Fuck everyone who fucks with me next year, because I've worked my ass off for the Marshmallow House and I'm going to fight for it.

Stay in school kids

posted by Ijime | 1:13 PM

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