When I said I'd write something good, I mean I'd write something good. Apparently, the muses refuse to serve me, i can't see my mahal, and my mother is constantly peeling my skin. square inch by square inch she is stripping me of my life and happiness. Yeah right. I'm trying to go for poetic here. Shit. I havn't done this in a long time. curse I mean. No. i'm not turnng angelic, I've never lived in a house with parents. I mean, its not like I've never lived with them. I've only been away from them for 3 years, and that's nothing compared to 16 years that I had to deal with them. This is no vacation, I tell you. But after highschool, I got booted outta the house. That's coz where i come from, there is no college. And then I get to live alone. Pretty cool, since all I've ever wanted was to get away from my bitch of a mother.
Honestly, I swear she adopted me.
My brain is going every which way. I can't think right anymore. I'm always reminded of the mistake I made. Y'know, my kid alex (readers, don't you dare comment about this. I'm not stupid not to know it was a mistake. Actually, the mistake was when I got together with that limp-dick-flaccid-little-worm-him. But enough about that.) There is no way I am going to be like my old self. So full of ideas. So full of angst. But now, the only irritant i have here is my mom. And i dont' want to write about her because I have her here 24/7. Do I still hafta talk about her.
Ok so I don't. AH! Now I know why my life is a total bore that the dead would seem living. It's because I'm not doing anything here. I'm gaining weight at blinding speed. Ok maybe not that quick. But i HAVE gained weight.
And all I do is take care of my angel. Who wouldn't get fat that way? Seriously.
I don't know what else to say...