2002-08-19 - 5:19 a.m.
If Insane Clown Posse came to my door, I'd still let them in... I think that says a lot about a person.
Inner space wasn't really where I should've been looking. It's too easy to get lost when you only have yourself for a reference.
We were rubbery, our houses and cars were like toys gleaming in the street light, and there was definitely liquid and bubbles under the plastic-coated surface of every object when the sun came up. I decided not to go to class that day.
You know when it gets right down to it, we have a lot in common with the paramecium...
Some things make more sense when you don't think about them.
And two lives can ooze into one, for real.
One time I had a lady friend who became like an addictive drug to me. I blamed her for that. But isn't that like blaming the substance rather than the abuser of the substance? I've been through some kind of self-inflicted 12 step program. But I don't really know if I passed.
I still think of her alot and I miss her but...
(yes I miss her butt too, you silly citizen)
I don't know... it's like I'm missing her, but (there! is that better!!!?) I am also wiping the perspiration off of my forehead and saying, "WHEW! Thank God!"
No one knows what it feels like unless you've thrown a party and had it crashed and trashed by people who didn't care about themselves let alone you or your home.
I think I would just as quickly show ICP the exit.
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