streamofconsciousness

so severely anti everything and the thought process is incomplete as a half-finished sentence uttered on the doorstep of a premonitioned death and you know it will come so you pensively wait for the other shoe to drop, a mask discarded in the castle dumpster after juliet and the bad guy walk off with romeo's optimism and as he slumbers walls tumble down and the fire will become un-concealable though the words have been chosen so carefully the lack of premeditation eats away at you and you find that things change and impressions are simple things to craft and manipulate but you're the one doing it and you're the one who is accountable for the deception, inadvisable, working this black magic on strangers.

my first night of noding and all i can think about is will they like me will they enjoy my writing will i get voted up and i don't know but i want them to like me appreciate me but my roommate is being annoying and i really feel like driving out into the desert for the evening and watching the milky way but i'll stay here and node for a while the phone is off the hook and maybe my roommate will leave and let me have some peace so i can think so i can node so i can write and find some comfort in this mass conglomerate of writers thinkers learners experts coders doers and then i'll feel better but if they ignore me i don't know what i'll do i guess i'll take the chevelle out for a drive and let my mind wander in the dust and watch the stars as they come out and smoke cigarettes and drink some jack and feel better and if they never see me again i wonder what they'll do i don't know but at least i have me and that's all i really need.