Howl-of-existence

...It's 5:30am. Once again, the morning glare has brought me into a listless heap, laying with laptop in tow on this ugly beige carpet with a cat purring and pushing on my back. Where has the eager sleep that clung to me run off to? Hiding under the cracks of the refrigerator I suppose. The birds singing throw me into a complete rage, once again angry at my lack of rest with absolutely no promise of further positivity this angry morning. And as the days begin to pass, my hands wither into oblivion and my silence begins to boast it's control of me. Were things ever meant to be this quiet or am I too quiet for these kinds of things? Early dayti

1. Publish [copy] these procedures. 2. You must state 8 things about yourself. 3. When you have ended the 'journal' you must choose 8 people and tag him/her. 4. Then it is necessary to go to his/her page and say to them that they have been tagged. ^ Too lazy; not doing. ------------------------------------------------- 1. I'm an only child. 2. I'm terrified of infections. 3. I hate fruit. 4. I graduated from my high school at the top of my class, 4.0 grade average my entire high school career, and now all I'm doing is favors for a bitch. It's not everything they think it is. 5. If there is a blank wall somewhere in my home, I can't

Fuck it all, I'm moving soon. Lack of inspiration, or anything else terribly substantial to my body as a homo (and I emphisize that) sapien. I also realized I can't spell anything for shit. A lot of it is all quite a disappointment, whether it's bold or quiet or living under my house because I'm a cold hearted bastard and won't let it come inside, but will let all it's little ones in here. Mostly for the reason of freshness, everything's starting to run in one big heap and I'm unfortunatly having a breakdown because I can't feel myself think anymore. And I'm completely addicted to attention, which is something I'm fairly certain I'll never ha