I guess....widgets. Coolest objects in the world.

Life seems to be drab. I suppose. I mean I sort of look at it like so because I really feel like nothing can hurt me now. I finally learned how to show emotions, the ones I feel anyways, in a way that seems "socially acceptable" and everything. I guess it helps I currently hang out with the three most expressive individuals I have ever met.

Somebody slashed my tires. They also slashed three other tires of the cars that were in the driveway. I found it sort of amusing. Well I do now. My car broke down about two weeks ago (maybe?) and I then noticed the slashed tire. I had it convinced in my head that someone put sugar in my gas tank and I was so angry I nearly punched Billy square in the face. I missed though. Luckily anger causes inaccuracy as well. Or maybe I'm just a shitty fighter. Who cares? At least I didn't punch the wrong person.

Well it turns out that it was some complicated other problem that broke my car down, and I don't really know how that is gonna get fixed.

Oh! Related story. I broke down not far from where I live (right in front of Kelsea's neighborhood actually, which scared the piss out of me, until I realized it would be really fuckin funny if she saw me there with my hood open.) and I had to push it, with help, down the hill. Only, because of the flat tire, it didn't make it back up the hill. So it sat there for about a week, collected dust and towing tickets. That was until one strange guy I've never met before knocked on my door- three days later brought a friend, a truck, and some chains. Remember, I never met this guy before. He just helped me out. Kindness of strangers eh?

The sad part is, the car broke down about 6 hours before I was supposed to be in Davidson for a court date (reason not included in today's session because it is NONE OF YOUR FUCKIN BUSINESS) and so I missed that. I called them though, and they said that it was okay, and gave me a later date.

Still jobless and still looking. My mom is moving out of where she is living (again, I'll add) and I might have to move back in with her, and get my old job back.

Me and Billy took a trip to Virginia Beach to see a concert, which turned out horribly. We got back a day later than we were supposed to and everyone thought we were dead. I got a surprising amount of hugs when I got back. A few slaps too.

That sort of thing really puts suicide in a new perspective. Lets, for this moment because I am using someone else's computer, say that the thought of self-pity (you hating yourself or feeling sorry for yourself) is surprisingly negated in an almost entirety, when friends who think you are dead, are so clearly glad that you are not.

So when I said life was drab, I was lying. (OH NO A LIAR), instead I'm actually having a lot of fun. I go through my ups and my downs, and I miss some people that I should and some I shouldn't, hate some I should and some I shouldn't. But all of that seems so far away. Insignificant almost. The only thing I can clearly recall of Kelsea is our sexual encounters, mostly because I could never get her to open up, and the frustration of being horny and annoyed at the same time is sort of my current situation. (lol no jk no jk). All I can think of about Lisa is her freak out at my house when she just rolled onto my dirty floor and cried like a child about something only a child could cry about. Lauren wants to be friends again, and I honestly don't care either way. She was the one to screw it up and I hope she knows it.

I'm under constant threat of being kicked out. I had to sleep outside a few times (and not in my car because it is broke and...at the trailer). Which, is not unlike what I am used to anyway.

I suppose that life sucks, but life only really sucks if you let it suck. Too many sucks. I mean to say that the past is so irrelevant, so stable yet unstable...no thats not it. Freeform writing here, no backspaces. The past can be forgotten, but you always experience the present, and the future is unavoidable, but far away. No matter how much pot you smoke, cigarrettes you inhale, or alcohol you consume, life remains the same whenever you wake up. There is no escape, there is only avoidance and acceptance. You can't change if you don't want to, but you will when you need to. Not caring is not an escape or an avoidance. Not caring is a way not to feel, if you are afraid of feeling.

Let me tell you folks. If there is anything I am doing in my life at the time, it is feeling. The experience that I was trapped in my body has long since left me, and I'm able to control my moods and share with people whom I don't even know or trust that well. I can make friends, and I'm okay when people laugh at me. I don't want to die, I don't want to hurt, and I don't think I deserve to be hurt. Hell, I make a good person when I try, and hell! I like to try. I have been feeling happy all the time, the lowest being mildly content. I am productive and my room and surroundings are usually kept clean. If anyone WOULD FUCKIN HIRE ME I would be doing great at work too.

Shit. I know how that came out. I don't really care. It is just, I feel good. I am excited about feeling good. It is okay too right? I mean, I guess someone could come along and call me full of myself. I guess that doesn't bother me like it did, if it ever did. I don't feel like I'm the best. I feel like I can be the best.

Hah, the next thing to do is get rid of this DAMNDED writers block. -_-

Final thing, I suppose: I'm in an indie rock band (no joke) and I sing (had to take lessons, lol, I was offkey apparently) and Justin and Billy play guitar with a drummer that changes every week. We put on a show and got a cut. People like us. It is kind of neat.

We rock hard and make our own songs. People like our covers more though. I really don't care. I guess I'll have to post a recording and some lyrics on here sometime.

Does anyone care?

*cricket*

lawl...