So I've seen that line a few times now. You have no friends ha ha. Can't miss being popular if you never were. Those types now don't fucking interupt me without a goddamn good reason. Anyway the girls on here are all special and that's why I'm here. No I did not find this place by googling "suicide." I've killed myself once before already and then got some REAL pain and suffering. Thought I'd keep this cheerful but then I read one of Avalon's poems... six empty bottles of Red Hook on my desk and some agro-fuck static-x shaking the house. Fucking pussies. Sorry I feel I owe them something actually. Many 20hr days out on the icy Bering Sea their jams blasted through the wind and waves and gave my skinny ass the adrenalin boost to not only stay alive, but excel. Believe me, I enjoyed the fruits of that labor living like a rock star myself in the offseason. So I thought my journal entry was going to be some of that suicidal poetry I write but I guess not. Life here has been good to me but lately I've been stockpiling african mahogany and fiberglass. Build that dream yatch. Truck it to the coast. Travel around and bring my new home with me....
Fuck yeah....
Fuck yeah....