this is nonsense
no matter how hard I try I just can't write everyday, not publically anyhow...I just don't have that much to say...and I'm growing increasingly unwilling to think things up to say. it takes me too long to get in my element, four hour writing sprees an shit. but when I don't write I feel useless, like if I don't record where my mentals are running to they'll somehow be invalidated. so many thoughts fly throughout my dome during the day, but when its time to release them into the atmosphere they won't do so fluidly, like good little thoughts...nah, I have to sit and stare at my notebook or my keyboard...paused. uninspired. for a longer amount of time then its worth...then I give up and get some frosted mini wheats.
the jaguar wright CD is dope...question: where are the jaguar wright/jill scott-ish philly girls around these parts...I have some exploring to do. all that surrounds me seems to be smuts, chickenheads, and hoodrats. assholes and dickheads. dirt, exhaust fumes, weeds.
I have a renewed interest in the macabre so excuse my dramatic nouns. tucker's parent's house will forever remind me of fight club (I think I've watched it 10 times since I've been here) and this amazing book called I am legend...very post-apocalyptic vampire type maddness that book is...not for pussies. as of now I need something else to ravenously soak up and in turn spit out to all of you poor souls that read my ridiculously unorganized thought processes day to day...but I absentmindedly left most of the shit I wanted to read in NY, invisible man and black no more being two of them. read those two in high school and college respectively but its time to revisit.
I've used a lot of SAT words today...gosh, my brain hurts oh so good.
...I think its funny so many heads don't quite grasp my ostentatious saracasm.
me and tucker are moving into the apartment today and monday...so last night we went out to make like two wild and crazy kids but philly has this very annoying rule in 90% of the strip clubs...no females unless you're dancing. making that reason #1st and foremost why I can't stick around here forever. I think NY and DC really spoiled me into thinking I was the queen of strip clubs...now out here I can't get in the hot ones unless I'm wearing a g? this simply won't do. when the second floor opens at the job next weekend there will be dancers but I can't guess how long that will last...hard to call the success of a new establishment. I'll just have to hope for the best...and meanwhile dream of big round asses and disappearing thong strings like peekaboo huny I see you... (oh my god, becky, what is wrong with her, dang shes such a dyke wow shes shamelessly exploiting women, I'm boycotting thatbitch.com effective immediately until huny talks about more heterosexual-friendly topics, gotdamn) ...I lost where I was going with that one.
the wise thing to do about now would be sleep as I will surely be hurling 666 out my eyeballs in the morning when my roomie wakes me up to start loading the uhaul.