Drink to think a little more and store all the bad feels that don't heel wither but just bore with all attempts to exempt them from existence. But there persistence runs on through you and this fuckin mark on the back of my neck feels like a mistake just like this stupid hair do I have. I want to cut it off and just block out that patch of skin forever.

I want it to rain forever. Just so I feel like me and God are on the same page. This rage. But I'm forgetting of when it shines and everythings more than fine because I have a good idea of what to do with myself and what to make of the world and all sorts of positive things I can do and will and do do but in these moments sitting waiting for that feel again I just don't. And maybe this is more than I realize but it feels like much less. Just words lingering over my dying underlying derivative of all the pointless and failing curve functions of my life.

A friend told me the other day to "Let it Blossom"  and now I feel I have to do much more than watch the plant. I need to let it get light and water it sometimes and that there's much my careless ass isn't doing to help myself, but maybe this is. And I just want to feel some consistency to myself where there isn't and all my friends are building there lifes and I still have no idea how mines coming together and I'm just soo fucking afraid that it just won't and I'll keep forgetting to water and give it light and I just might wither away in the gutters with the rest of those wasting their time. But who knows maybe I'll still end up somewhere right. Someone told me to be myself and I told them (in my head) that person a fucking idiot. That maybe I should be someone else. But I don't know.

I don't know shit.  I'm too forgetful.

Knaiv