Now she's with one of my goodtime buddies,
They're drinkin' in some crosstown bar.

i can actually laugh about it.
because it is fucking hilarious.
i couldn't write it any better.
so...i keep asking myself, "why aren't you good enough?"...i find it to be a very hard question to answer. in my mind, i'm the best there is. this has been a rather humbling experience. i guess that is good in some respects. i thought i was in control...i guess i was sadly mistaken. i need to start listening to people, and what they are actually saying, instead of skimming over what i've heard. it was clearly told to me many a time...i was just a training dummy.

i always get duped by the eyes. the eyes always seem to tell me differently.

well...she was the third, and i told myself three was my limit. so there you go. my story is written. now it just needs a conclusion.

i'd like it to be a founding member of a kick-ass rock band...who tragically dies as they gain popularity. that's kinda morbid. maybe just go crazy, like syd...i think that would be acceptable. get bald and fat. i'm halfway there.

i just can't stand how they don't play by the rules.

...any of them.

My friends tell me, that I've been such a fool,
And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin' you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what you've done.
But nothin' seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And I can't run.