Recovery

At the store, taking the CDs that are out of place is called Recovery. Used to think that was kind of a stupid thing to call it. They could have called it "Pulling." Since that's what you do, you pull it out. But, it's recovery.

Let's take all the shit that's out of place and throw it where it belongs.

Aye, when I go home I'mma go find all of my mixes...those were fun.

Dang dude...I am so broke...I feel an overdraft comin...UGHHHHH. My dad's gonna kill me.

Fuckin Thursdays. Got homework up the ass. SHIT

Lately, I am just numb. Nothing can touch me. I am high above, soaring, watching...waiting to fall, but enjoying the sights. Fake smiling releases endorphins too, Rosanne says. But these ones are pretty much real, because I am so sick and tired of feeling like ugh. Fix my brain, please. It's all fucked up in there. I need some file folders, STAT.

When I go home, I'm going to take a fat nap. Just cause. Just cause I can. And I'll listen to my old mixes and sing along haha and write in my journal hahahah, emo-ass. Feels like high school.

Oh yeah, I have to pick up my check. Hah, remind me, I'm desperado (a)? Spanish, wha!

I don't know. You never write in here when you're happy or whatever it is, only when sad, so let's stop that shit. I don'tknow whatevvvvv.