2003-07-12 / 4:44 a.m.

So it's five in the morning and I'm still kinda fucked up, hazey from the pills and I can't really see straight, and this is tragic because all I really want is to go to Waffle House.

Cleaning out my notes tonight brought it to my attention that I've been single and left alone for quite some time now. This was the best plan I ever had. And the send off was one talking shit about me behind my back and the other one freaking out everyone I know. Yes, even I stop ignoring the signs when it gets to that point. I'm self sufficient for a reason and it's time I grew up enough to spare the world the social tragedies that I try and pass off as relationships. Deep breath... plus I'd rather write poems to guys I don't know, it's less mess,more art.

I got my check today. It was more pathetic than I'd anticipated. This only becomes a problem if my grandmother won't send me money. I was all ready to get a temp job until August, but when Patrick talked me out of that he did a very good job of it. All I want to do is write poems and compose long letters and take naps in the middle of the day and use up rolls of film on garden gnomes and hilltops. Fuck driving to Southside and back five days a week. On that note, I have a letter to write. (Because what better time to write your grandmother than 5 o'clock Saturday morning before your buzz goes away?)

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