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To someone, somewhere…

Well, I’m sitting here listening to Adam sleep because I can’t. I’m worried because I don’t know what going on with me mentally anymore. I’m upset I do this to myself but I can’t help it. I keep thinking about Christopher and how everything crashs and burns only to rise and be reborn once more. What we have is like a phoenix or a shitty T.S.Elliot poem. Elliot is always going on about life, death, and rebirth, it’s all so bland. I think I will find away to the pre-birth. To the forms of Plato, the ideas that exist simply because they always have and always will. The foundations of reality.

I just wish my thoughts were once more organized. I’m useless like this. I can’t draw. I can’t paint. I can barely feel anything besides tired and annoyed. I’m a little upset Eric and I didn’t go to 80’s night tonight. We have both been trying to organize when we’d go again but plans keep falling through. Here’s hoping for next week. I need to dance and have a good time. I can’t believe I went on for about a hour about the willing weak state of American men. Maybe Thomas (pronounced TooMoss) is right, I’m not American. I should move to Brazil or some European country. I just do not fit in American society. It’s so pathetic with it’s politically correctness and endless labels. I need to calm down.

I think need to do some yoga in the morning.

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