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Buttfuck

i want to move to viginia or nashville

keep my records and books in neat shelves and throw out the rest

only eat salad so i dont start to hate myself

if i copy your life, will i be more like you?

i can see my own search for self dissolving like the sugar in my coffee,

or more like a light that is going out. yes, my lights go out.

is there even a light that never goes out? I doubt.

i want a big dog and a boyfriend so i went get too bored living in the middle of nowhere.

because once you've lived in this city, everywhere else is the middle of nowhere or as we lovingly refer to it, "Buttfuck."

If the path to spiritual salvation starts right here, right now, then tell me

what the fuck am i doing? Or rather, why am i refusing to do it?

Not refusing. Just sleeping.

Sleeping really late. I have to rush just to make it to work at four o'clock.

I set my alarm clock at an odd number just for the element of surprise in the morning.

And i know deep inside what would help me out if this small space where i feel suffocated and scared and blocked but refusing to believe in "blocks" because i am so sure that is just an excuse for laziness:

soup kitchens.

3:42 a.m. - 2004-11-17

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