I would not mind some rain soon. I need to be cleansed. I need to be soaked.

I'm not feeling too well. My head hurts. I'm weary. I'm on the edge. I feel like quitting. I feel like disappearing. Withdrawing. I'm tired.

But what are you going to do...

Philosophy is a handjob your college gave you so you wouldn't notice that you were woefully unprepared for Life Outside The Cocoon, but I suppose that's a discussion for a different board.. Weet. I like Asselin.

I made myself some new clix banners. No more boobs unfortunately. But I'll show you anyway. In the veiled hope that you'll clix 'em of course. It's all in my masterplan.

I found a bullet at work. At least I think it was a bullet. It was very small though. Maybe it wasn't a bullet. It looked like it though. There had been a minor break-in/vandalism thing. I was sweeping away some debris. And there it was. I took it. I thought it was cool. I was planning on making it my mascot. I mean what's more appropriate for a stereotypical suicidal maniac. Keeping a pet bullet. Then after work I went to Favorit. And when I got my wallet out of my pocket to pay for my sodas (I'm still thirsty) I accidentally dropped the bullet. And I couldn't find it. I didn't find it. I threw it away. I'm upset about that. I am. I hate my own weak bones. I couldn't even get myself to stop and do a major search and say I'd dropped something. I just looked weakly around the floor and when I didn't see it I went on like nothing happened. Goddamnit. Bullet flew away on butterfly wings because I'm too much of a pussy to make a "spectacle". Yeah, I'm sure they'd judge you for wanting to get something you dropped. Agh. I am a prime example of pathetic waste of space. I am Jack's lost dreams at sea.

That's it. I took some very bad pictures of it. I couldn't get the flash to work properly. I forgot to set the focuser right. So it's very bad. I was planning to take a good one when I came home. I bet the police are going to be mad at me when they discover the body of the dead hobo in the closet. And all.

And the election is tomorrow. I should go vote. I really should. I don't think a change of government would be good for me. But it looks lost anyway. It's nice to see that the racist party is doing so well. As we like to call them. I should vote. But the thought of a room filled with people. People coming and going. People sitting at tables that I'd need to talk to. All that. What difference could I make anyway. Apathy's last kiss.

It's not going to stop me complaining about how the country's run anyway...

Everybody's falling for empty promises. Electioneering.

But I'm not going to vote. I'm everything that's wrong with the world to day. And all I got was this lousy t-shirt.

Always tired.

np: zwan - cast a stone