i guess i should just write more. never had to make sense.

Sunday. my dearest grandmother hates it when i work on Sunday, i have a hard time following this request of her. i don't remember last time i had a calendar or proper agenda. seconds ago the rain was pouring, ran for my bike. my roommate tends to notice every objects i leave in the small corridor we have. i am gonna end up smoking a pack of cigarettes before mid-day. from coffee to Rum, back into ginger/ginseng tea. liquids goes along with cigarettes. always. i have serial tendencies. patterns i follow carefully, meticulously. obsessive maybe. one too many aspects of my multiples personality. the doctors were not totally wrong. it is not a disorder but a gifted creative wheels of archetypes. lord knows i am very fast in motion feelings spinning circles 'n that wheel. i am waiting for another stranger driving all the way from Ottawa in order to meet me. i bailed on every rendez-vous we had back in my hometown. of course i wish i was in a better mood for her arrival, i ain't no puppet boy holding a happy switch button you can press down as ever you wish. if my mind goes down, there is got to be something pretty distracting to rise it all up. the night Jackson came over for diner showed me once again how easier it is to feed myself royally in this city when you get a guest over. i made myself one egg for one toast for one cheese sliced carefully. still manage to give half to my dog. the least i can do. she has wishes for entire days wandering in park but i get bored as easy she gets bored inside the house. we both are living cette chienne de vie. but it ain't that bad trust me. i have a home, for how long we shall see.
i have been waiting too long already for this guest. ô do i wish she will entertain me. i hate formal conversations about the places we work, the things we have done. the school or work we do. i care about feelings usually the rest can fuck off. truly.
always easier to sip on this fine fine dark Rum rather then the tea i make maybe just to feel like i am healthy. there is too many people i talk shortly on the internet. sick of it. then they wonder why i tend to sit in café and talk to the old lady next to me. they tell me story when you can't even look me in the eyes.