Obscure 2011
2011-01-26, 10:59 a.m.

They're knocking again. No idea why, or who they are, but it's frightening.

An indescribable, terrible feeling that can't be put aside.

I wish I knew why I can't sleep.


Though I haven't been writing I have been feeling paranoid, happy, sad (but I don't know why), over-enthusiastic, in the middle of a complete breakdown-psycho-preternatural-bullshit phase where I don't know who or what I am.

"I'd rather be dead than cool."


Nothing seems to push me forward, I'm stuck in a rut of fear and loathing, and not even that fuck-head Nixon can get me out.

*censored to avoid blame for murder/suicide/hate, because only the right-wing is blameless.

Do nothing

Repitition of HatredLoveless AvenueBurn Out (and) Fade Away