It’s a fugly out. (Guess what the “f” stands for and add “ugly”)
I’m wet and I smell like a wet dog.
It’s supposed to be cold the rest of the week and it crushes me. I want that warm nice weather we had for a day or two a week or two ago. That would be nice.
But I guess this kind of weather matches my mood. I’m sick again…and yes, that DOES ruin things. ie. my mood.
Being sick is being worthless. Feeling like it at least.
Actually going to class was SO hard today…I just wanted to sleep forever.
And in other news… something I wrote yesterday.
I blinked twice and coughed
explamation points onto
your ironclad apathy.
Your hippy hysteria threw
grey paint on my ambition
and crows battered pigs with
liberal policy. But I didn’t listen.
I conquered the conscious
with naked juice and acid tests.
Your vain, squirrel paws scratch
desert sand for an empty past
while my Methamphetamine
eyes distort hope in the moonlit
foyers of my imagination.
Now I’m late for class.