this (freaking) house is so weird. i have no (freaking) idea what the *bleep* is happening. hay dyosko. thinking about random everyday idiosyncracies = sweet escape. so here dig in.
it's just poetic, this entire smashed life. rockstar driving to a gig, awake til 4a at some posh watering hole, drinking, smoking, laughing with everyone, shouting lungs out to an incomprehensible song. you're smashed you dont remember a thing, it doesn't make sense but it feels right. and again, because such behavior never merits an aok from any decent parent, it's always this me-versus-the-parental-units match. it just sits well with the smashed life. adds to the freaking drama, the whole misunderstood show.
i play loud music. i look at smashed fotos. am so freaking pissed. i need more thoughts. can i be smashed too? i take that back -- am not realy thaaat pissed. justa litttle. maybe pissed enough to think about moving out.
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