12.3.06

This time was 'Nexttime'




The party last night turned sour the moment we drove up to the townhouse. theKiller mentioned something about not knowing it was a do-rag party and that he had forgotten his own. Two drunk thugged out white guys hop into a car and take off - only to have a guest mention that her cell phone was gone. There were a lot of words thrown back and forth that reaked of Heineken and all i wanted to do was watch.
This area is so twisted with red-necks, faux thugs, and vapid idiots. I can't imagine how some people function and don't understand how I could think that I can't.

I want to be like Gregory Crewdson. Travel to a remote American town and take stunning pictures that move hundreds of people. Or I could be a reporter for NPR or the Washington Post. I could travel to different parts of the world in search of the truth, ideally. I coudl cover interested stories like the illegal kite flying in Pakistan.

The rest of the night consisted of getting intensely tanked. It was nicer then it sounds really, I just looked like a fool because of it. Like anyone with too much alcohol I kept looking at everything differently trying to figure it out. The lines on the road, the lights in the night. Everything was so interesting but I couldn't look for too long or else I would be sick as a dog. I also continued to act a fool in front of someone that I feel I continue too dissapoint. I have a feeling that no one is perfect and that every 'relationship' is strange or whatever, but I have never felt more self consious in my life then when I fell out of bed in front of him - drunk as a skunk.

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