I Regret to Inform

I have dirt on my soul and it smells like stale cigarette smoke. I've done it - again. The incongruity of my sweet soul and my smoker self; ugh, I tell ya... it's really something else.

- C  O  G  N  I  T I  V  E      D  I  S  S  O  N  A  N  C  E -

I'm sure I was pretty happy a few weeks ago, and now... I am depressed. Just a little, though. So stewpid.

Suddenly, I am walking around my life, my body-house, feeling as though things aren't enough when just weeks ago I was marveling that I had reached the point of my life that I had manifested (job wise) and things were magically ducky.

Well, fuck this shit. I ain't hanging around this crack table, chasing Cyanide and DDT dragons, forever.

That's it, that's all I've got. Nothin' new here.