cipher

Real journal time.
Yay.

Kinda depressing how many of my SG friends are gray. And even as TheFool returns, contrast washes away.

The fact that I allowed that terrible rhyme should suggest something to you. It should suggest that I'm either high or tired, and since I don't really do drugs, the answer's fairly obvious.

Spring break was unutterably boring. Not bad, just unremarkable.

What is remarkable: Spring is actually here. I hesitate to say that, lest god pop up and smote yours truly, but I can't stop myself. I'm just too fucking excited.
This is actually one of the reasons I refuse to consider moving to most places outside the Cities. What the fuck would spring be worth if not for winter (I guess it's spring, I didn't know, it's always 75 with no melting snow)?
And on and on.

Sin City shortly. And the next several weeks yields new albums by two of my top 5 bands (NIN & Eels), plus some Garbage and Weezer. Still need to get the Beck album, however. Been lazy today.

Now if I can only survive this semester and get the fuck out of here.

Entering the "damn it feels good to be single" stage. Partially out of the weather. I've done spring while being tied down, it ain't fun. This time of year like no other is when I need to disappear into the ether come nights. Long, long walks, here I come.

Everything bores me right now. Everything but the outdoors, music, and music journalism. Clearly I have a problem.

Fuck it.
It's been real.