I'm disappointed that my dreams seem to have become mundane to me. I may have lumped them all into the category of indescribable, and now I have been barely able to remember solid details or any flow of thought or story in them. I miss dreams. Porn's so stupid and worthless and degrading. I have tried to intervene with myself to stop watching it. It's a strong habit. I had really disgusting fantasies about Julie. I imagined telling Stacy about my sex fantasy of Stacy and adding details while telling her and getting off on it. I almost rear-ended someone on I-35 in downtown traffic while fantasizing about Julie. Typical. I had just left my interview at Sprouts. I think I shall be starting that job soon. I am worried about what will be expected of me and how I shall preform. That seems typical. Damnit. I feel horny. Mostly because I'm alone, I think. I feel like this writing is going well, though. Patrick left Friday night to Bridgett's and Saturday morning to her family in Victoria. He'll be back later today he said. Early this morning, Tim left for Kingsville to see Chelsea. He'll back Monday night. I am going to Jan's this afternoon. I must have started this about ten am. It's been raining a lot. I miss Ashley quite a bit. I really don't care about her body or intimacy anymore. I just want friendship and to know she is doing well. That sounds sappy and like I am trying to be a good, likable person. But why would I lie here. Lie as in not true. Here as in Blogger. Meta. Suck. Bluck. I got up about nine to nine thirty. I turned on the PS3 and got on youtube. I started to watch DailyGrace, but oh no ugh. So I watched/listened to Coffeh Time. It made me want to watch documentaries. I shall do that soon. I have to wash my clothes. I got semen on some underwear and blue shorts. Why do I type that and post it. It's in my head. That is the only criteria for posting here. I'm wearing an inside out black long sleeve old navy shirt. How egg-stacksly.
What isle is the world? This blog changes how I write and think. Done Does Diss Dizz Whizz, Peacczzzzee. Is this it? by da strokes. This lazy writing is depressing. I do not know how to read myself. Like how people say to read "a writer's name". And The Blow...
"isle" up there is supposed to be else, and I like that isle is a word, i like what it means.
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