more pthtc

the only commitment i respect is the one i have with my room. it takes a magnificent amount of energy and willingness to leave my small space. i'm very boring and despondent and unappealingly lifeless. i went out last night. stared at myself in the mirror in the bathroom. for some reason, i tried to recognize a face that i forget no longer associates with me. my face widened and stretched to find the same lines it had before. i tried to make my eyes the way they were before. but for the inappropriate amount of time that i molded and sculped my face in the bathroom, i couldn't find the expressions i was looking for. then i remembered i'm different. i remembered i don't know how to be what ever it was i was looking for. devoided of my own reflection (the one i thought i had), i exited without pissing. 

i bet i'll die with my head down. i used to joke that if i die in a car accident, i'll be found dead with my chin dug into my chest, focused on my ipod, or something.

brightside: at least i'm not addicted to heroin.

here, watch this.