perhaps my problem is that i hate this time of year.
go on and be happy.
fuck the bullshit, it's time to throw down.
i've become dyslexic in my typing. i blame it on lappy. he is admidst death-throws. i cannot save.
perhaps if cold, i would stutter my letters also.
i need a release. something needs to give. instead i am left here, alternately becoming very anxious, then angry, or just plain tired.
nothing is a solution.
last - next