Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 91 I want to shake it out of you, and bleed it out of you. I want to see anger rise in place of apathy. I want a fucking storm to blow in and wipe out the buildings, a flood to cover the streets. I want less time and more action. I want this frustration to change into something tangible, something I can hold, and feel, and throw against the wall. I want unlimited gas and endless daylight. I want to have tears left to shed. I want to catch this nervous energy and put it into something, bottle it, and save it for when I want to sleep for years. I want you to stop reaching, stop pulling, stop. Stop. . . . I want the week off of work, and a pay check twice the size. A bottle of rum, and a case of Coke, 3 cartons of smokes, pizza, and a new pair of fuzzy pants. I want a party bigger than Spundae, bigger than 1015 Folsom, bigger than the DNA Lounge, bigger than this city, filled with people I don�t know. Except I want everyone to love me without expectations and eventuallys and somedays and more-times. . . . I want the fucking golden ticket and the midgets without having to listen to the fucking singing. 8:42 p.m. - 2002-10-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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