Something i thought, sometime after waking today, pleading to nothing, nowhere, “I have to find a solution! A fucking solution is out there, i know it.”

and then, i remembered, as the late, Layne Staley (sp?) once murmered midst all the heroin likely, something like the following, which i believe, and have seen first hand to be true:

You can’t understand the User’s mind
but try, with your “books”, and “degree”s

what follows, however, i do not condone– that is– i disagree. I mean it must be high, or low. And I do not recommend you let yourself go, i do not recommend you’d be doin’ it [“like me”], as the lyric goes. Me? no. Done did it, however, i bet i don’t be doin’ it.

yeah, yeah… it’s bullshit. a shit event. a shit post. a piece of an article. I’d thought i’d write, diggin’ on some manefesto. But the damn alprazolam; trying to survive, and i haven’t the motivation, so it’s turned.

Edit: wait, wait! I shan’t damn, that alprazolam. Rather, what i mean (like, in summary, nearly everything else god-damn it for being so damn good… no– no– no, that’s not quite right either, but), the glorious, wonderful, little Miss Xex, in a size 1, blue dress^†.
^†that’s a play on Little Miss S (in a mini dress), an Edie Brickell & New Bohemians joint, yo (Shooting Rubberbands…). And BTW! Fuck McFarlane for his continuous goofin on ol Edie, through Claus (the fish). I don’t care what he say, they were an f’n great band, and she, not unlike Janis Joplin: unparalleled

“Burn me again. Burn me away.” — Solarcaine, sOna [US] (Brian Lubrecht, lyricist)
“Telling lies. Well, that’s no surprise.” – Belinda Carlisle, The Go-go’s

eh… fuck it