Gold Lion's Gonna Tell Me Where the Light Is

Tuesday, December 26, 2006 at 2:00 AM

It's 2 AM and I'm so tired I'm delirious, drinking something green out of a plastic bottle shaped like a barrel. I know I'm delirious because I'm reading the blogs and feelings artsy and thinking I'm a writer. To be a writer, I have to stop being afraid to show what I can do and I can't do that. No way, Jose. I joke about being hardcore because I'm everything but.

I have 30 gigs of free space on my 170 gig hard drive because I'm such a fucking pack rat, I never want to get rid of anything. Not even that which is digital. I can't sit through shuffle without wanting to skip every other song because it's some indie crap that I can't stand most of the time except for times like this. You suck, Undertones. Don't try to convince me otherwise.

I want to go back to bathesda's, I thrift store I used to visit all the time with Holly Hox. She had that style, the type of girl who could fashion a dress out of a garbage bag. The girl who never had a bad photograph. I spent my money on useless shit and I want to go back and do that again. Buy another album because Colonel Sanders is on the cover. Find that ghetto blaster. Go back to the comic book store and see what I've missed.

My exgirlfriend would paint or make collages at times like these. I sit and think. I need to stop this. I need to make something productive out of it.