It's been a long and strange trip. but don't fret - it isn't yet at the end point. I've always loved the morning, but I'm far from a morning person. Which seems pretty symbolic to me, but I'm an English major so it's kind of my job to be overly analytic. The hardest part about growing up is keeping track of who you are, and trying to figure out if who you are going to be matches with who you want to be. The smell old Bukowski's ashtray clings to my clothes. and everything that I don't have the courage to say out loud can be seen in my eyes and the lines of my face. And I know this will sound absolutely ******* ridiculous - but in modern society it's hard to be a man. gone are the days of Clint Eastwood kicking *** and taking names. All we have now are morons and ****** bags. I read somewhere that we are the quitting generation, and that ****** me off. Because the faults of the current generation are always due to the previous generation. But people are ******* by nature who can't take responsibility when their plants begin to wilt. And my Dad quit on me - not the other way around. And I know that this probably isn't fun to read - but frankly I don't give a ****. This isn't something which is going to be published - more so some much needed venting space. And I'm trying to figure out how to bring this thick wall of rambling text to an end, but endings don't really exist. Just unknown places which can not be followed. so instead of assaulting your eyes and your poetic sensibilities for another ten lines I will say this: If you read this and didn't immediately think of killing me or yourself, then thank you. If you did, then feel free to pretend I never had the gall to write such an ugly, boring, self-indulgent piece. And I hope you all have a nice a day