Almost Independance Day?

Back to the old routine. Laying on the floor of my room, listening to records, consuming strictly water.
As always, when I gamble on anything with my heart, it gets taken away from me and broken.
Now I try to get back to normal.

I wish I was so high I had just enough motor control to flip a record and drop the needle. I can be happy on the floor.

Douchebags have it so easy. I don't get it.

Speed Jive

Things I'm good at:

-not talking about things
-falling for impossible girls
-getting drunk enough to be bold enough to kiss them and ruining everything because I'm a fucking moron.

I don't know. We'll see.

25 now.

Happy belated, me.