my thoughts are crushing my neck. at least thats what i think is causing this pain.

i want to sleep, but i don't

he texted me today asking when i work so he could stop by to get his souvenir.
what a dick thing to say. although i'm sure he didnt mean it that way.
i told him when i work and that i didn't know about the souvenir.
and he said Where The Fuck Is My Souvenir

he did buy me a drink from Halo before i flew across the pond, though.
my goal is to finish Che Guevara's biography. it's sitting on the bottom shelf, of all shelves, and my book mark is still in there.

i don't like to finish books. over the years, i've read only half of half the books i've read. i like that.
i've read only half of half the books i've read.

i want a yogurt. but i won't

i'm no longer in Mazzy Star mode. i am in silence mode.
i'm tired of shuffle
i'm tired of lonely
i'm tired of computer
i'm tired