miserylovescmpny

There was something I was going to say... something inspiring, something powerful, something gripping.

... but then I forgot it.

There are two constants in my life right now. One is that everyone wants my money. Two, I have no time for anything. I'm trying to think of a way to get next friday off so I can go to the Burlesque show with my friend Lance, but I've been putting it off so I can work up the nerve. It's not that I'm a pushover, but to be honest, I'm a fairly awful liar, and the only reason I feel I need to fib my way out of work is that I don't think the boss'll give me the night off to go party. But if my grandma is dying...

I spend alot of time in my own head, wondering about shit on some meager philosophical level. Pervading amongst my inquiries regarding the cosmic complexities, one question fills my mind more than any other: Where the bitches at?

Everyone is trying to find the right person, everyone is trying to get laid. This I know. And although I realize that I have plenty of time yet to settle down, it bothers me that I haven't felt any real feelings for a person in some time. Until recently I just blamed it on all those girls various inadequacies, but I wonder if it isn't my fault. Maybe my standards are simply too high, or maybe I'm just dead inside. I'm not really sure which is worse, but the latter certainly seems more formidable. If the former were the case I'll tell you all to go fuck yourselves. It's not your fault, I know, but I'd just feel the need to lash out.

I'm the type of person who isn't willing to compromise my standards; I could never be happy with that. I'm that way with my art, my music, my work (well... not quite always with the work hehe). But if I'm dead inside, what is there to do? I'm not one to go jaunting off on some crusade of personal disvovery. I leave that to better men.