Parasitic Enzymes Keep me Sleeping with your lantern.

So this huge trucking fuck drove by me as I was walking down the street from hell, and kicked up a bunch of dirt and sand into my already shitty eyes. That felt almost as refreshing as a punch in the gut followed by a common pissing on by a passing bum. But, you know what happened? Ad I was walking down the flower bed in the middle of the street towards the bus stop, Jesus drove by on his little mo-ped. He smiled at me, kind of while chuckling at something I assume he thought was funny in his head. We gave each other a reassuring nod, and then he was gone. It then occurred to me that I will probably never see him again. That's okay I guess, he was quite insignificant in my life in this hole. But, he was still a part of the 4 years of pushing posies and tripping over myself. So in short I guess it's hit me that I'm not gonna be seeing a majority of the people I've met. Don't take this for sadness though. It's more just an observation. I don't think it would be fair to say I'm gonna try and move on with my life now and never look back, because some things are worth looking back on. Damn. Pretty. Odd. Is a Damn good album. Uh, anyways. It was so hot today. Well, it is so hot today, rather. It's the greatest thing that's said to have happened. Imagine, knowing me! Ahh. There's just something about this album. I can't find a single thing to criticise. And it's not a cheap 10 song one either, there's like, 18 tracks or something! That's intense! It's a journey. But you'll never know when you arrive at the end until you're there. My mustache is getting quite furry now. I'm looking forward to shaving tomorrow. As soon as I come home from my final exam, that's what I'm gonna do. Fuck everything else. I think the piano knows something I don't know. Maybe that's why I can't get away from it. I must unlock it's deep dark secrets. Hah. Naah. It's just an inanimate object. Just like that street sign over there. It doesn't have feelings. As far as I know. The only thing separating me from it is a layer of dark matter. Dark matter is everywhere. You'll never touch anyone because of it. Isn't that sad? We're all born into the world perpetually alone in our own shell of dark matter. We live and die never touching anyone or anything. We're tricked into thinking we are making contact by our minds, but it's all just an illusion. On reflecting on that, it's not really that sad. Illusion or not, we still feel like we make connections to people and things, so what's the difference. Finally. I'm almost home. Good-by. There's still more I would like to say, but I really must bid you adieu. Adieu.