fucking space cowboy, yo!

so i said to myself the other day, "things are 'gonna change, beeyatch," and they have. i eat salads instead of rice. i sleep when everyone is awake, and i do my homework while everyone in this city is having their routine late-night "touch myself" time. i am running smoother and wiser. my legs are always cramped and sore, but that's alright. i don't know if i'm any faster, but i know this feeling of weakness right now is only making me stronger. i'm going to come back up in school, and my teachers will see me as the sleeper hit of the summer (err... spring). i'm going to own myself, for once. there's not going to be any of this slacker dead-head zombie drool bullshit anymore. it's all going to be on point from now on, with a ninja's accuracy and precision.

but my skin will still be dry. i don't have any gripes about that, not even with the fact that people won't want to touch me, 'cuz i'm a bunch of bones covered in sandpaper for your masochistic enjoyment. hold my hand and you will scar; caress my face and you will bleed. at least my hair is always fresh-and-so-clean-clean.

i didn't say things were going to change for the better. i'm still addicted to sleep, as well as the idea of a girl. put those two ideas together, and you have a sick mind. i ain't a ball of horny energy like the rest of y'all, at least not on wednesdays.