And I am oh so sick and tired of every place that I know...(Concrete Blonde throbs in the background).
Fucking Karl Urban...
My obsession. I dragged my ass away from watching "Demons..." for the umpteenth time. I'm all into Rock Star:INXS (first reality show to catch my attention, gimme a break), and I'm pushing for JD to win. Why? Cause he's best? For Fuck Sake No. He favors Karl, who, btw, for the uneducated, looks like an old bf that I willingly (read: gladly - only man who ever hit me) gave up as an uninitiated young wench of questionable sanity.
Here I am, certainly not a soul he'd notice, wishing I was. Laughing at the absurdity of that wish.
Still not at work. Still surviving on credit cards and my winning smile. Sick as a puppy up til today. Didn't sleep much to speak of. Very manic night. Valium didn't squelsh the shit throbbing in my head last night. God! I screamed, ached, hurt...The arthritis is a cruel mistress. Have a script for Gold. Christ and the angels! Gold. What sort of intriguing mouth sores will I pop up w/ over this travesty. Thanks to Adrian for going w/me. It made it make sense. I miss him. I'm going home soon.
Can't write. Can't think. Can't can't. Know what I mean? Listened to NIN today. Lyrics making to goddamn much sense. That's when it gets funny. Just before the shit starts talking to you through music, odd book choices (Arthur, LOTR today!), or the radio, you hear the rustle. If you listen.
Coldplay in my head and too much worry about the fucking taxes on my mind!