days are pretty empty. got pineapple juice on the sofa, immediately thought about mould, didn’t wipe it off, let it rot. lethargy all day, bed, music, internet, music, bed, clothes, petrol, food, no cooking. want rum and more rum, and rum with a bit of lime and ice. preoccupied always with thoughts about a life i don’t have, things that haven’t happened. sick of boys and their boring sex, even more their boring talk. i’ll just smoke it out the window, over the trees, across the boring houses, the empty estate, people doing nothing in their nothing lives. where did the soul go ? people only ever want what you’ve got, they don’t give back, just take until you’re nothing and beautiful never came into it.