I get a little bummed when I see old photos. I know that it was a better time for me, in terms of my brother being alive, in terms of my health… Every day I wish I’d done things differently but I didn’t. I took everything for granted and now I’m grasping at straws every single day. I’ve begun to use those straws for kindling, to start the worlds biggest blaze.
My checklist for potential broads:
* Not a bitch
* Doesn’t take me for granted
* Smokes weed
We’re too punk for the spooky kids and too spooky for the punk kids.
Maybe if I bang out three chord mosh fodder with a Danzig-vocal impression the spooky kids will like us more.
my exgirlfriend is right that i don’t care about anyone but myself anymore. i guess it’s just because i know what i want.
talking to people is like talking to a brick wall.
It’s okay to stare at my arm.
I’m covered in scars and spots from an non-contagious autoimmune condition, and there’s not a whole hell of a lot I can do except relax and take it as it comes. There was a time that people didn’t want to shake my hand. It bugged people out. I was on and off steroids, vitamin d, and Enbrel…. that made me feel like shit. I still played shows, in a state of decay, I lost about 35-40 pounds in all because my innards felt like they were failing and I couldn’t eat much.
I started hanging out with my brother, and he took one look at me and was bugging out. We began bonding with the trees, my condition is more manageable now.
I hate the idea that I could get that sick again. If it does happen again, I can’t promise how I will handle it.
The current DA on SVU seems like he’s a criminally insane mastermind.