I'm not feeling too well. These massive mood swings are just exhausting. Nevermind that my hours of consciousness and my hours of sleep don't add up to 24. Fuck, man. The more I see of you (1) the more terrible I feel, against all odds. The less I see of you (2), the less I care. Isn't that tragic. I figure, everything I want to do involves production, and I've just run out of gas.

Shit, man. I've done over 1800 entries, and I'm just realizing now that everything I've said has been said before and I'm becoming no more than formulaic. Because, you know, the public will accept the same story if you change the details, but when you only speak in vaguities, well, you're fucked.
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