Fuck

Since I told myself I would never delete or edit (unless I notice spelling) any of my blog entries, I'll leave the last blog entry the same. Damn though, so many rhetorical questions, with either no answer, or atleast no good answer.

Last night dreams were fucking retarded. I should really start writing them down as soon as I wake up. I remember I woke up thinking "what the fuck" but right now, I can't put my finger on what exactly happened in these dreams.

I might not be getting the company I was expecting. Which I guess is a good thing, but not really. My stomach felt tight when I read the words "I'm not sure if....". Maybe I'll see a kid I met once and we can both be sad together. Oh well, it won't be the first show that I'll be standing all by myself, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

Why is it that I think omitting names helps with discretion at all?

I live in my own little world. Work tomorrow should be fun, free subs, which is something other than potatoes.

I should stop writing in this thing at 2 in the morning, I think its my emo peak.