Travel Song

what a few days. goddamn. I want to write that post on talent, I've been meaning too for, what, three weeks? something like that. It's not in me today thought. insomnia is killing me but its a great creative tool i think. I wish I could play guitar now, the whole complex would probably yell at me though.  what am I saying? what am I trying to say? I think I'm having a breakdown but oddly. stop-start. mostly in the mornings. well the afternoons. I don't even know mornings anymore. the evenings and even through the late nights I'm together.and its slow or not slow but continueous. three weeks I think since my stolen spot and the nine i hate everything days with adrian. I hate how fragile I have become as if anything can tip me over into this altered state where my mind is not my own of depression anger dread stress and withdrawl. FUCK. was this a mistake? I mean. Why am I here? would I be breaking down in california? my mom says I would be. and what happons when I have broken down copleatly? shoudln't I gain acceptance? bottom out like I hope? or will I continue to break apart at the begining of all my days 

we're just held together by calenders and sex

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