Fuck Normal Life
2001-07-15 - 10:26 p.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
I'm in the middle of something on this side of the world. I call it a fantastic run of bad luck. But it hasn't been all bad. Not really. Just about all of it, thought. One thing after another, it has piled up like a multi-car collison involving ederly drivers in the middle stages of alzheimers. Lots of fumbling about blindly. Count on me in any stress, pressure or performance situation. I am your man. Violence? Persuasion? Action? Adventure? I can handle it with sauve aplomb. Its the daily living thing that will be the death of me. Give me a head full of acid and a fucking goat-roper threatening to shoot me any day of the week and I am okay. Let me talk someone's mother out of suicide while I am half-stoned. I am there with no worries. Put me in __________* house partying like mad, though I really know no one at the party, and I'm fine. But keep me away from the normal. I suck at it. *celebrity name deleted because, well, he wan't home. I dislike name dropping, and look down on name droppers, generally speaking.
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