Bore-dom

Nothing much really happens here anymore. Nothing worth talking about at least. I mean hell, it's been what? Three months since we last found a dead body?

I remember this one time, back in high school, where I woke up feeling sick in the middle of the night. I didn't sleep again for damn near a week.

This was back before I had my driver's license, back before I had more then two close friends, back before I had 600 dvd's, before I drank, before I masturbated, before I did anything that could really help pass the time.

So I did nothing.

That week sort of ran together in an awkward stew of colors and sounds none of which really meant anything at the time. But now, for some reason, they do.

That was good nothing. The kind of nothing you can hang your hat on at the end of a long happy life. Not the kind of nothing which drives you half mad. The kind of nothing that's been dogging me lately.

So this weekend I drank (twice), wrote (once), and spent far too much money in a place featuring women with far too little clothing.

I almost enjoyed myself.

It was a curious weekend, but one that shit me out in the exact same state it swallowed me up in.

Same old shit, you know?