Shit...I'm writting so much tonight... it's this lovelly unknown scotch that I'm drinking (jack and JB are over and all that's left is this.. I could wash my car with this stuff)
Well.. It turned out that I'm a victim of my own responses.
But I guess that it's allright... unless I walk away from myself..
naaaa I don't think so... she's looking back at me.
I just feel like a cannonball..
blazing through the skies.. with just one thing in my head.. the certain of the fall
Strange.. this is pure human nature.... we are getting all the fun....and all we think of...is that it's going to end...eventually
(ouch..and I'm so nasty tonight)
yes...counting crows are still playing
I wish I was a rock star
that way.. all my kinkyness would be labelled as "normal" or "regular"
why can't I dress some yellow pants, bright red shirt and go to work?
why can't I say fuck as many times I please?
damn.. I wish I was a rock star.
I would say "how do you do?" and they would sell it as a book
well I wish I was a pig too...but that's because they have orgasms of thirty minutes..
I wish that you were mine....and you're everybodys satellite (C.Crows line..not mine)
what do you do when you get like this? without nothing to say?
I mean.. nothing that anyone would lose time reading?
my friends showed me that it's all or nothing
and I must say that I like writing bullshit...
would someone send me to hell?
hell must be a fun place.. we get to suffer from all the feelings at once...
reminds me of lovers...
I wish I was an artist..
I wish that art happened everywhere I touched..
yes I want to touch you...but you're already a prima-donna
I wanna be a taxi driver too.. so you could tell me all your secrets... expecting me to forget them all by the next customers arrival
I wanna be all that I ain't
I wanna live!