Apologies for the previous novel-post.

I've just come back from The Shins and Modest Mouse. Perhaps needless to say, it was generally an acoustic orgasm.

Didn't play "Fighting in a Sack" though. Disappointing.

I'm sufficiently fed up with all the drama my family brings at this point. Which in a way is good. I'm ready to move on again. It will still be hard to leave, but at least it will be time to leave.

We got our asses kicked in the football game last night, which is really too bad. I almost wish I was back at my old high school, the guys seem much cuter now than they were when I was there. Maybe that's just because they were playing in a state championship football game, but still.

My mother just called me an imp. What the hell does that even mean right now? You see what I mean about it being time to move on?

It's a city day tomorrow. Lots of rambling around in my car with loud music on to get to cafes with good coffee and sidewalk tables. I just want to sit and enjoy thinking about whatever the hell I want to think about and not having to talk to anybody and not having to fake anything. Just enjoy being.

And what the hell kind of life do I live? One of my best friends is trying to evade a military draft, another is lost somewhere in Spain, another is probably drunkenly passed out in some field full of sheep, and another has apparently jumped into a canal or something out of insanity. And that's not even counting all the people here at home, what with all the cocaine and fake IDs and arrests and fucking around.

So don't even get me started on why I'm losing my mind.