The Grand Entrance

No spotlight, no audience, no nothing. It’s a rainy day and it’s filled with anticipation. I was banned from register at my job yesterday, later flashing my lady bits in front of the store during closing. I still have no reason behind that. I wonder if any one realized. I keep peering over at this mini-bagel with sos that my dad put on my stack books on my dresser next to me. The contemplations, the desires, and the not-so-apparent hunger pains. My dad has off work until the day after Memorial day. In return, I think I’ll be a not-so-apparent alcoholic. Watered down coffee and a half cleaned room. What am I suppose to do now? I half-did every thing, so I guess my day is done. 1:58 pm, score 0. The bagel is still there, untouched. I can’t read books any more, can’t finish any thing. I don’t even know the point of this. I mean, in time, I’m sure great topics will come about. But why this day? This day is so dreary, so un-exciting until about 7pm, lacking human hygiene, sloppy, and I’m not even stoned yet. Can I say that here?

I discovered a great podcast the other night, subscribe to it on itunes:

radical waterbong feminist revolt!

“there’s something enervating to the rat race of daily life in the well spent night of debauchery” -http://sirndipiti.livejournal.com/

Maybe I’ll write more later…