Ok so I don't want this to become a theme but fuck it it's a drunk blog, its supposed o be my the most uncencored shit out thur. no dem internetz
1 High Life 40
Ok so, Kevin Devine is distracting me but I'm gunna rant on for awhile about shit. It's all gunna be really pathetic specific shit that I hope no one gets, cause if you do that means that you're close to it but fuck the internets.
So last night at the show, all I wanted was to hold you hand but you didn;t so i kept telling myself that it was for the better, cause Im not supposed to be getting my hopes up, i told you you're not happening in richmond. whatever. so i told you to txt me and you did and we were gunna hang out but then you were like im too tired im going to bed. and against my better judgment I txted you to see if i could stay over, and I knew there was a better chance of you sayinf yes because ya nighr life. so w/ez i went over, not expecting shit, and even as i sat there with you in bed i was trying to decide if i should leave, and i was kind drunk but i kept drinking to convine myself that this was a good idea. so i stayed, i pretneded like everything was the fucking past and it was all cool. and i woke up early this morning but i keept pretending cause thats what i what i wanted. then i went to work and i started to think about everything. and i kept going in and out of weither or not me staying was a good idea. so i txtd you and then I asked if we should keep hanging out, because really its not good for either of us in real life. and you said maybe i may txt you late tonight. so iwent to a frends house and drank, and i waited for your txt, i chatted up other girls but i waited, all night and nothing, so when i was drunk enough i txtd you and now i dont know what the fuck im doing, all i wanted i had last night but its like fucking poision, ya know, i know its bad for me but it's all i want. its like those old fucking habits of mine. i still think about them but i know its bad and im able to stave it off.
fuck the interent, i hate it all, i hate the music i sing, i hate the life i lead. im leaving this fucking city and whatever.
fuck it all.
I feel like Chris, but he died of a brain hemorage or something.