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necking

ran into C on ave a while i was with chris. it was pretty whatever. not unlike drugs, i only seem to remember the good things about bad boys, which are few and far between: him cleaning up spilled beer off my floor, giving me and lighting me cigarettes, saying orange was his favorite color, writing my name on a napkin in graffitti letters, trying to wake me up too early in the morning. that's pretty much it. how sad.

there was a soccar game today but i didn't go. summertime makes me feel like i'm 17. there's nothing wrong with that. i guess that's why i'm always on diaryland. once again, i have no life. i can only hope to run into people while walking down the street. otherwise, i'm doomed to a life of self reflection. oh no!

rumor has it, people think i'm doing dope again. weird.

rumor has it, i'm all outta gas.

what? you think your shit dont stink?

got the new issue of dazed, finally, and G wrote this thing about R that is so far-gone. its like, little kids all over the world will read this and think that it's true. like, "oh you dont actually have to WORK at anything, you just have to smoke dust and be in the right scene." the whole article was completly manipulated. that's not say i didn't like it. i did very much. a great piece of fiction, captivating. G is a good writer, although corny at times. he said "they were necking like puetro ricans playing hooky." i like that. necking. i'm gonna use that.

chris got stoned today and got kinda boring. pot makes people boring sometimes. but i'm procrastinating--i gots work to do.

7:34 p.m. - 2002-06-29

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history - mystery