�vodka and eighteen wheelers�

ahhh... yes. i promised daily, so here is daily.

ahhh today. i woke up at six in the p.m. wow. im getting pretty fucking bad. six. wow.

but hety, im workin it. im cutting back on smoking (for monetary reasons) rent is due tommorrow, i have about a just under adollar to my name, and im more concerened with how im gonna buy beer and cigareetes.speaking of which...

tonight im drunk on vodka. that my roommate, paid 6 dollars for a fifth of.

ok. now some deep shit:

i hate my roommate. not as a person. but as a roommate. im not built to have a roommate. i could live with a loved one, (girlfriend, familyy member, very close friend, etc.) but im not built for this friend roommmate business. i confine myself to my room and beg for privacy. but on the other hand i fel bad for taking his food and liquor and asking for money to buy cigarettes. its just, i get to the point where just looking at him makes me angry. his face, the expressions, his opinions, just infuriate me. i swear sometimes i could bach in his face and feel no remorse. but its not him. its me. i moved here to be a lone, and he needed a place to stay so i said sure. no ones fault but mine. i knew i needed to be alone, and i let someone in. but he had no where else to go? sheesh. i feel fucking terriblre.

today i found myself chatting with my ex over the internerd, trying to express myself. i dont know if you know this, but im pretty anti confrontational. id rather just let everyone else have their way and be happy than get what i have to say out there. today, for some reason, i thought id give standing up for me out there. it did not work.

since we broke up, ive been the "go to guy" for her. i like being there for people, but im sick of feeling used. i just dont get it. after pouring every last part of myself into this, seh still just... i dunnno, doesnt appreciate it. and every now an again will let out the nugget of appreciation. and to me, in the past for some reason, has been enough. its so hard to play the rol of the friend, consoling (becuase i honestly care, not cuase im trying to get something) and having to hold back all the feelings i have. its getting hard to not put out cigarettes on my arm. oh wait, i already do that. HA.

sometimes, watching yourself is like, what i can only assume, watching your only child run out into the street after a ball or toy or puppy or something, whilst putting themself in the way of an oncoming semi. you yell and scream but they just dont hear you over the noise, and all they have on their mind is whats in front of them; paying no attention to perripherial vison.

fuck me, i wish we had more vodka.

as i wrote this: listened to the stereo, three hundred, and cried a bit.
mood: depressed as fuck.
drunk when i wrote this? a fifth for 6 bucks. shit yeah