i can smell your blood burning. listening to rxb. it's 16:34. so happy i'll be seeing them. expoding with anxiety. but then. i just dont care about anything else. do i? this smells familiar. there's rancid today. i'm trying to convince myself that i'm not tired, though they became a shitty band over the last few years. dont worry baby, 'cause we're all for sale. well i feel like an anorexic at an 'all you can eat' buffet. the options are endless but i know i'll feel bad if i choose something i really want. that's the best metaphore i could find. post modern literature? i think not. k, i'll keep my day job. wait. i dont have one. that explains the 100 dollars i have for the next , hmm, 8 days. damn clothes. cold times. shut your eyes dont breath so loud. it's just an episode.






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mmmmm rx bandits.