caught up in the mix,
rolling in the shit,
drowning deep in a puddle of the sorely outlived.
searching for answers to questions,
new questions to pose:
am i really this fucked?
guess i'll never really know till i try it.
open up and take in,
till i break all the rules,
wash my body in the sins of all those who i'd warned against using in the past.
till i experience linoleum floors beneath my back.
covered in vomit and wine,
there's a smile on my face,
'cause i may smell a bit funky,
but i'm back in the race for emphatic good times,
with true friends and old foes.
so hate mongers go home,
'cause this is a new market and i ain't buying...

holy shit man.
i need to keep writing.
something, anything.
i just need to do something.
i'm going out of my fucking skull.

why did i do this to myself man?
what the fuck is wrong with me?
goddamn alcohol,
making me actually talk about what's on my mind.
i can't do that man.
i'm fucking nuts.
i'm pretty much crazy.
i know i freaked out joe.
he thinks i'm some kinda fucking emo loon now.
which is fine, i'm sure he won't hold it against me,
but it sucks nonetheless.
and marc,
i don't think he knew anything like that about me.
marc is cool though,
he's a lot like me so i'm sure we've had a lot of the same kinds of crazy problems.
but what really gets me is erin,
what does she think about some of the crazy stuff i was saying last night?
i doubt i'll ever really know because she's just like me.
and i held all of that shit in for a long time before it came out,
so i'm sure i'll never really know what she thinks about me now.
not unless she reads this,
like she said she read all of my other blogs,
and decides to give me a call so that we can set something up where we can talk to each other,
honestly,
intensely,
and most importantly,
sober...

fuck.
yup, that's right,
fuck.

that just about sums up where i'm at right now.
just a big old fashioned,
fuck.
what else is one to say?

i'm back to drinking and smoking,
fuck.
i got trashed and let out at least two years of repressed baggage in one night to my ex-girlfriend,
fuck.
i am now officially confused as to how i feel about a lot of people,
fuck.
and on top of all that,
school starts soon and i need a job,
double fuck.

you see,
fuck just about sums it up.
it is the perfect word for my current state of being.
however,
i do believe that the correct way to make fuck an adjective is to add an "ed."

i am fucked...

i love when new things turn out well.
new music is incredible.
i'm so excited,
and i just can't hide it.
i'm about to lose control and i think i like it.
(sorry, i had to)

i'm hungry.
it's so funny spending the day with marc because that kid just doesn't schedule any time to eat.
good times, good times.

so, the driving question,
why did you do it tony?
honestly, i don't know.
but i kept control and had a good time.
as long as i'm cautious,
i see no problem with my actions.
and if anyone does have a problem,
fuck 'em.

new haircut, new music, maybe new shoes soon, possibly a new job;
sounds like the forefront of a new era in the life of this starving rocker...