Forgotten Boy

Hellidaze and Rambling Pyrotechnics

Her voice grates me like cheese. It's loud and often non-
stop. She's pasty and freckled and has missing teeth. She's
middle age and dresses like a trendy MTv botttle fed teen.
It's ridiculous. I hate my job. I hate her. (Actually I
love my job. I get to do things like this and get paid!)
Gee,did I say that outloud? Anyway,the thing is,It's the
28th of November and the Hellidaze are nearly in full
swing.What an abomination! The falsehood of the whole
affair puzzles,dumbfounds and spooks the hell outta me.
(Ya,I'm jacked on caffeine,it is 9 in the morning.) I'm
back to chain smoking after 4 months off the sticks. All
those late weekend nights at the piano alone in the cold
basement composing fantastic ditties likely to never be
heard by anyone other than me and the cats. Well,it's
something and it doesn't involve having to tolerate anyone
else's bullshit views on me or life or this or that or
anything for that matter. Most people get on my
nerves...quickly. i hate all my girlfriends friends and I
(fortunately/unfortunately) don't have any. What's a friend
anyway? Someone who thinks it's o.k. to borrow money from
you,basically. Fuck 'em.
[does anyone read these things?]
Until later
Q...,?