Mood: Ouch

So first off.
I was at Denny's tonight, not unlike any other night. It was just Drew, Truck and myself. I got there pretty late, I just kind of needed to get out. Yeah, it's been one of those weeks. Anyway. Good night for conversation..Until we get on the subject of Skins in Red Lion. Drew asked me if there were any, and I said 'yeah'. Truck then looks at me and says, 'Working class?'. Ugh. They're all working class, retard. It's just a matter of whether or not they're sharp or nazi. He then gets into this stupid tangit of how the Cromags brought skins to the New York hardcore scene. False. Not far from reality, but false and no where in his right to say. I may not be smart or good at anything... But I fucking know my 'scene'. Then he argued with me about it. Go listen to Alkaline Trio and wear your Terror hoodie. Think you're the hardest fuck around. I don't give a fuck. Leave punk rock alone.

So second off.
I think Dustin and I got into our first fight? Iunno. I was taking a nap, he chugged a sparks and got tipsy like he usually does. I flipped out, 'cos...well.. I'm a cunt when I'm trying to sleep. And it wasn't normal sleep. It was "I worked all damn week, one day being a 12 hour shift even after my 2 hour break, and the max amount of sleep I've gotten has been 3 hours." So I hit hard. He got offended and went downstairs. I was unable to sleep from this point on, and went to Denny's. I get back, and he's alseep..rightfully so, it's 3am. But yeah. I'm not concerned about it. I'm just not entierly sure he realizes how much our schedules conflict. And..he shouldn't. I'd just like to sleep when given the time to do so.

I'm broke, and it's upsetting. I'm not going to be able to get anyone anything for holiday-ness. I feel like I have nothing to show for working, and it's really starting to make me depressed. Like.. Alot. Why be unhappy pulling a (for lack of better words) 9-5, when I could be living in my parent's house doing nothing, and be completely content. Or in the woods. I miss being a nomad. No ties to anything but myself. Once I finish my sleeve, I think I'll be better. I'm very proud of my body modification. Nobody seems to know that, I think. Everyone knows I like it.. but it's more than that. It gives me a retarded bond with Todd. My skin is pretty and interesting and people want to talk to me about it. And it hurts and takes alot of time. And money. A good investment, assuming I never suffer large, deforming scars. ....uh... Yeah, those would be bad.

I get down on myself too much.
I always feel lonely. A feeling I haven't been able to shake, I think, my whole life.
.....long pause.......

Alright.
I need to.. do something.. worth while.. but I don't think I'll get to..
So what's the point?

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