2

Run. Fight. Thrive.

This annoying ass computer won't let me catch a break. I want to play guitar and sing. I want to sketch like Lecter as he contemplates murder. I want excellent music taste. I want a soundtrack to my life. I want a GF who'll love me without expecting anything in return. That sort of unconditional love is so rare.

Ah... the hoes in my life. If someone wanted me truly- I'd have driven them away. Eye contact I hold with a beautiful stranger. The tension adds romance to my days. I can't believe talking to her was like talking to a good friend. People figure out how to exist with me as I do the same.

I'm desperate and lonely. I feel so more often than I used to. However, I'm slowly overcoming the anxiety of being alone in crowds. I can't shake off this feeling that I'm missing something. It's fun to fuck but shitty to masturbate. 

I don't want to fall off my routine. 

I usually don't write this long. I'm breaking new boundaries. I wish I had gotten out of bed the second I woke up and started writing. That would have gotten more of this acid out of me.

I don't need drugs. I already have an active imagination. More phantasmagoria would kill me. I don't know who to trust. Everybody has an angle. Everybody is different when I'm not around.

Sex would be great. I should either get a GF or find a brothel. I'll try to find some articles on the brothel scene in India. The movie that I saw was horrible. I puked.

Also, I farted in public recently. I feel proud. I'll do it again with no shame. I shall no longer care if others find me unattractive.