what if we could suture the past to make a beautiful tapestry?

sometimes i wonder if my brain works right. b/c i don't know what it takes to be me for a day, but i'm pretty sure this train doesn't stop for many people.

man, i'm sure that just made me sound like a fucking schizo, ha ha. (p.s. i wasn't talking about being crazy, i was talking about being mentally retarded, assholes.)

and i know very well...

i meant to rant about this yesterday. but i forgot...happens when you work 13 hours shifts. warning: comic book rant.
anyway, the last issue of brit is finished and printed. and i'm utterly disappointed, i really thought kirkman was gonna take over writing it. but nay. they just put that old bastard back on the shelf. and honestly, they could've just cut wolf-man and kept brit. but hey, he's obviously doing something right (note: walking dead & invincible) so i'll quit my harping. just let down is all.
kinda makes me wish i was devastating people by not publishing things...ha ha. one can only hope, right?

honestly...

i almost died today. and it wasn't cool at all.
i seriously don't feel like driving for a week. and now my stomach hurts like i ate a really wicked rotten burrito.

we look good side by side...

...let's get a bottle and drink alone tonight.
this light looks good on you.

it's simple. i promise.

fuck people.

now there's nothing left to do, but die.

she's got that kind of sigourney weaver beautiful, back when she was an amazonian fox.
dancer's legs and a disarming smile.
all tied together by the dreams of a james cameron. gotta love Aliens. but if it wasn't for ridley scott and dan o'bannon being the geniuses they were. it never would've happened.

90 days of sweat and dirt feels like one moment when you've got nothing left.

we used to be real, right? not just fictitious dancers gliding alone in the dark?
maybe you were sent back from the future to save me.
i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you.