01-13-03 - 12:07 am
a broken past to the ships snapped mast makes the sails swing in the wind. setting a course with no reason or force is like surfing in a litter box of sin. remember the womans face on the corner of the place where you bought your first soul to save? the one you put in your lunchbox of rabbits in hats and rambles of do cats eat bats with no food or water for her or her rats.
i really cant sleep. i lay in bed for hours. staring into the cracks of the ceiling. counting dots that flash up in the darkness. listening to darth vader banks. hearing my laptop grind. my space heater blowing carbon monoxide into every crack and corner of my room. i just cant. im not sleepy. ill fall asleep and 2 hours later ill wake up and ill be up until the next night/morning/whatever it is. my sleep buttons broken.
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