[I hope that some sadness does cross your mind...]

[I can't wait for you... I can't wait for you... ]
[Everything has changed.]

Express mailed signing docs to the states- trying to close on my house in North Dakota.

Sold the hooptie, but a wobbly ball joint is keeping it in my possession, part's on order... not as easy as I'd like it. Not enough hours in the day.

[I've worked for so long, just to see you mess around. What you've done. I want back the years that you took when I was young, when I was young. But it's done.]
[Oh take it all away. I don't feel it anymore.]

Credit fraud again and again and again. Never get robbed. Hours on the phone with banks. Every time a different person, so the story just gets longer and longer.

It's a three day weekend- I'm going out of town. Of course, it's the law. My law.

Still waiting on my taxes. Should be done this week. Overseas you have automatically until 15 June to file. I think tax assistance is really tax-waste-your-time- and-create-a-mountain-out-of-a-molehill-assistance.

Still cannot run. It is killing me. My foot. Damn-it! It's just not normal.

[I was fucked up when you needed me the most. ]
[Trying to starve myself to death.]

But it could be worse. Like my mom says, one day at a time, one step at a time.

[You can run. I don't think you can hide.]
[You are not what you were when you were young.]

At least I have William Fitzsimmons to calm me. And my nailpolish matches my car. And I have a shrine. And I can draw.

[I'm a slave to my indifference. I'm comfortable with chains now.]

Going to bed. It's 19:52.

[Every day just passes now. I can count them all.]
[Just another piece of pleasure. At least before I'm dead.]