plays over the speakers as I buzz up over what's left of the beer from the fridge. If kites, on a string, could fly in the rain, I'd be in the stratosphere. Shit. I wish I could say more. Beer is like that. Especially with the Smiths. Maybe it's because my phone died and won't charge? Fuck, I'm phone-less for a month? Doesn't bother me none!
Today is a Sunday with nothing to report other than things are wet, cold, and miserable. And yet I cannot register things of such nature as a problem, as the problems I see are something you'd laugh at. It's about as cold on the outside as it is on the inside. I don't feel or notice the difference until the knee gives me pain, or until I hop in the shower. The only highlight was the declaration that I will set the puzzle on fire [Link]. And I hope to do it within the next two months. I hope I can get it on video.
I wasn't happy that I turned off today.
But, I wasn't sad either as I flicked that switch off, smiling.
But, I wasn't sad either as I flicked that switch off, smiling.
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want played in the background of my thoughts and room. When it was over, My Arms Keep Missing You performed by Rick Astley came on.
Was this evening passing through hell?
So far I still have beer.
Was this evening passing through hell?
So far I still have beer.
I could care less.
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