roguestenography

I'm running dry of bad excuses I don't wanna lie or seem too intrusive, but time hasn't told me anything and niether has she.

I've got a new habit - random song quotation. Actually its a pretty old habit, the profiles on this site lemme relive it.

Its been raining a lot, I stayed late and work, had a long slow smoke on the way home, where I got out of my car and took a fully clothed running jump into a ditch full of water. Had a wonderful shower after that and a lot of drumming and singing Joe Jacksons parts in common people (the motherfucking shatner album cover!) because you have to sing them loudly.

I was looking in the mirror today and didn't really recognize myself, this leads me to believe reality is such a construct, that it takes very little besides devotion to change to make it different. Like seriously, you can call things speculation or self diminutizing or something all you want, but really how is that not guiding you? If something even seems like a constant frame of mind, even if you don't really believe it, how does your reality not build around that?

I've been full of the idea I'm not capable of that which my two years at SAIT is supposed to make me lately; something like the education has failed and the grades have been nothing but a figurehead of the imperial system in a metric world - and suddenly defeat is incarnating in me.

The only reason I wouldn't be (good at what I do, which I am thankyouverymuch.) is because I would make myself not be. I had a really good average through second year (I know its not an achievement for a mechanic, but sodoff all the same - I'm not a mechanic, I do that to pay bills, I dream to fill time, I cook when my career is straightlinging, I study literature when I'm bored I'm above all a situationalist planning an escape. Or an ottoman. I haven't decided and I probably won't, so don't close the registers, or fill out any ledgers.) The point is I rule, and I don't think I'm too stupid to notice that. (oh good, I've admitted I'm weak, socail suicide! SUICIDE I TELL YOU! / honey I'm much weakerthan you can imagaine.)



"can you feel your heartbeat racing, can you taste the fear in your sweat? You've done this wrong, your too far gone, these sheets tell everything, I admit, that I, that I'm just a fool for you.: