this is called a freestyle journal think session
meanwhile i got two days two go until my next paid couch doctor confession
i'm guessing the day was bland but i got one hand in the past so some memory will last into tomorrow's cookie jar
i'm not near a child but i'm far from a settled adult
the peddle spins but the grins are far more frequent than the full fledged smiles and once in a while i yearn for a burning scream
dream for her wherever and whoever she is and there i go the romantic manic depressed hoping for a hand to take me to the land of free
she sings a song for me and i would write a whole album for her but my last two relationships left my plenty fucked-up feelings a shit-filled blur and the last time there was sex was before the girl was an ex-girl and god damn that was a world and many many months ago
flow on one to grow on and the dj play a slow song sped up for the fed up ones and all the good books are filled with puns like a life dive bar leaving the dim light for the sun but where the hell are my glasses slow molasses drip days and these are the days of a man twenty seven stuck between hell in the brain and a heart filled with heaven
meanwhile i got two days two go until my next paid couch doctor confession
i'm guessing the day was bland but i got one hand in the past so some memory will last into tomorrow's cookie jar
i'm not near a child but i'm far from a settled adult
the peddle spins but the grins are far more frequent than the full fledged smiles and once in a while i yearn for a burning scream
dream for her wherever and whoever she is and there i go the romantic manic depressed hoping for a hand to take me to the land of free
she sings a song for me and i would write a whole album for her but my last two relationships left my plenty fucked-up feelings a shit-filled blur and the last time there was sex was before the girl was an ex-girl and god damn that was a world and many many months ago
flow on one to grow on and the dj play a slow song sped up for the fed up ones and all the good books are filled with puns like a life dive bar leaving the dim light for the sun but where the hell are my glasses slow molasses drip days and these are the days of a man twenty seven stuck between hell in the brain and a heart filled with heaven
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But the style in which I chose to write and all...I think that it's more for the people that read it and less for me, which is okay, I mean, what is the point of having an on-line journal if you don't expect people to read it. I think that I get a lot of comments and have quite a few friends (made in a fairly short period of time, really) because of what and the way that I write in here...
Oh...I don't do drugs at work. My job means too much to me for that, and also it would be awfully stupid and selfish of me to be high here, considering the job that I do...I just drink a lot of soda...
Wow...that was a seriously long comment. Yeesh.
Why don't you have any pictures of your face, psycho boy???