psynapse

dear reader! i implore you: go buy haydens album "live at convocation hall". if you don't get it, then you suck.

out past the fountain i left by the station, i start the day in the usual way. then think well why not and stop for a coffee and begin to recall things that you say.

i'm just sitting around being foolish when there is work to be done.

i love sundays. i love sundays. i love sundays.
i'm going to repeat that thought three times to try to overcome the 13 years worth of school brainwashing that says "sundays are no good because they mean tomorrow you have to go back". well, now, i don't have to go back to shit!!!!! now, i get to sleep in until 4 pm, lay around all...
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the chicken is my favourite face.

i wonder, whoever is reading this, which one of us will die first?

absence makes the heart grow fonder.
familiarity breeds contempt.

shoveling snow sucks.
being off work is great.

"call me dr. worm, good morning how are you, i'm dr. worm. i'm interested in things. i'm not a real doctor but i am a real worm, i am an actual worm, i live like a worm. i like to play the drums. i think i'm getting good but i can handle criticism. i'll play you what...
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what i see is unreal
i've written my own part
eat of the apple, so young
i'm crawling back to start.

can i possibly provide anything to anyone? is there some character trait or property that is possesed exclusively by me? am i a unique source of something? and if so, what?

whenever i'm in a crowd of more than 3 other people, i want to vomit.
my sentences ramble on so long that other people quit listening halfway through, and i'm too stupid to notice, so i just keep babbling away, acting like i'm enriching their lives with some tidbits of knowledge that they never would have come up with themselves, thinking they will look at...
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