man 1: What are we going to do? man 2: Nothing. man 1: Nothing? man 2: There is a fish that lies on the ocean floor, as if dead. Other fish come out to nibble at it's flesh, and it lets them. When they're close enough... it strikes. man 1: So that's what we'll do. man 2: Yes, we wait...
i. me, i didn't mean anything. about anything, to anyone. and i knew that guaranteed me a long, depression-free life
ii. of course i'm home. i'm always home. i'm uncool.
iii. we don't read and write poetry because it's cute. we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. and the human race is filled with passion.
"The Count of Monte Crisco..." "That's "Cristo" you dumb shit." "...by Alexandree Dumb-ass. Dumb-ass." "Dumb-ass? 'Dumas'. Ever read it? You'll like that one Heywood, it's about a prison break." "Jailbreak? Maybe we ought a file that one under "Educational" too."
I felt like updating as in I haven't seen a new entry in like a month. Come on people! Anyway... My quote: "You mind if I cut out a little early...I've got stuff to do."
lethargic