the people who talk

fucking disagreeable, maybe i need some cure-all soda? maybe i need some cure-all exertion? some cure-all sleep? some cure-all fuck-all? why in the SHIT?

forty-five minutes left here.

i could talk about biking or whatever, but blah blah blah yeah.

music! EFK? franny and the twins? dan goddamned bern? THE NATIONAL. some shitty lil wayne single, loud and crackly.

the truck is oooooozing fluid, green like monster ENERGY drink. i want to just park it and wait that shit out. deal with it at a later date. HA. but.

(i just feel very worded out right now. everyone talks talks talks and the sun still rises. IT'S SO HARD TO GET ON.)

big long blob of text. sometimes remembering makes me feel sick, i just wanna look forward or maybe look RIGHT HERE. reading that new franzen business, and it's got me in a PLACE. a PLACE where i cut my thoughts short because they would otherwise make me sicksicksick, etc. the usual: parents, family, whatever. blindly beating away the branches of duty, scraping my skin on their insistent points. i don't mind that it hurts to ignore them, i can deal with that more easily than i can deal with remembering. or something. la la la. what if i clench my jaw and ONLY EAT RICE FROM NOW ON? mimic the solution of another time, another name, another melody. pretend we're dead and this is a dream. TAKE ADVANTAGE.

right. i'm gonna go for a RIDE.