Reading Magnifico's journal

My house is quiet. It's 1:23 AM. Is that signifigant?
Quiet. . .

My summer's dying. I can feel it slipping away. It's been a curious combination of caffeine-induced hallucinations, Everclear, nag champa, and Evie. And pretentious, artsy journal posts. Because that's what I do. It's my thing. Damnit.

I'm sitting here, listening to my Existential mix playlist (a fusion of Tool, AFI, Linkin Park, and some other bands), pondering life most ponderously. I'm sitting here, suffering in the silence, pondering (an act of willful imagination) the slings and arrows of outrageous (mis)fortune. I'm sick and fucking tired of storms. And silence. I'm feeling empty inside again. . .

Dreamin' of that face again. . .
it's bright, and blue, and shimmering. . .

Thbbbbt

This post was edited by Magnifico on Feb 09, 2004.