wow, a real entry.

My father was a schizophrenic. My mother is a religious neurotic.

and here the fuck I am. A most agnostic, middle road kinda mutherfucker. Still haunted by end time fears implanted into my mind when I was 12. Still jumping out of bed at 3am at loud noises, and looking into the sky for the angels that should be pouring through the clouds...

any...

minute....

now...

each day is like pulling another tendon-like rope tied to me out of the ground;

out of someone elses flesh.

And it comes back to me like a bounced email. I haven't sorted it out. I just forgot about it. Me, the one who tells everyone else to face their problems. Don't let them run wild behind your back, I'd say. I'm the biggest fuck up of them all. I can't sort my shit straight, and I know what I'm suppost to do. I have the knowledge, but no wisdom to implement it. It's like having a walkman with no batteries.

And I worry that the defect of my father lays dormant inside me. Bad blood in my veins. That one day I'll wake up and everything will be fucked up and neon green, and the only thing I'll have to say is; "damn, this green shit is all kinds of fucked up."

ooh, solitare...