Got a ride from the trolley from this rich old dude coming back home on Saturday. He must've thought I was hitchiking for whatever reason as my thumb was definitely not out. He kept asking me what was so funny. From now on, just say "I'm not gay" and prepare to be walking the rest of the way. Shit was awkward.
Sometimes, I think I'm doomed to walk around as a fake. Sometimes, being real is too painful. I'll just live in a pretend world I guess. Pointlessly alone. Everything a figment of imagination. Hiding behind a screen spewing pretty pictures to the populus. Pretty enough for them. The grass is always greener, but everything looks perfect from far away... come down now. hah.
For some reason I hate the smell of cigarettes cept when I'm drunk.
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