jesusfuckinchrist. the most boring day EVER. today just sucked.
and i've been mad horny all weekend. the hormones are, for unknown reasons, in overdrive. no relief is in sight. ohhh how i hate sexual frustration.
i have way too much shit on my mind. it fucked me up today; i had nothing to do to distract myself, so i just sat around and thought about shit until i felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy. bad idea. when that happens, i start getting depressed and anxious... its that good ol' bipolar thing.
fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
and i've been mad horny all weekend. the hormones are, for unknown reasons, in overdrive. no relief is in sight. ohhh how i hate sexual frustration.
i have way too much shit on my mind. it fucked me up today; i had nothing to do to distract myself, so i just sat around and thought about shit until i felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy. bad idea. when that happens, i start getting depressed and anxious... its that good ol' bipolar thing.
fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
isn't their some fertility/sexuality goddess we can worship?
[Edited on Oct 20, 2003 1:45PM]
elliot smith was a brilliant lyricist and folk-rock musician that died on tuesday. He was only in his thirties...
from what i can assume, he's more mellow than your taste, but his words are luminous and so real. He's the only musician of whom i own every album.
my particular favorites: rose parade, somebody i used to know, say yes