Relief

Ah, a new modem and a colon full of bran buds.

This will be a good week.

Goo

Can't breathe, can't think. It's the constant sound, it's tripped something bad the last couple days. Can't calm down right now, it's just too loud.

Everything is taking focus, it's mine, give it back.

Just let me do my thing in peace, it'll get done.

Conspiracy Time

Top 40 Radio is actually a code. Each song represents a set message, one that though constant will jump to another song depending on timing. This timing is on a set schedule, desgined to give the appearence of changing with the market and the tastes of the public.

Played randomly, they have no meaning, but in a certain order, a message or command is broadcasted. The trick I haven't cracked is what means what, or who the audience is. Hell, it may even be subliminal.

Or maybe I'm just really sick of Lady GaGa and Nickelback.

Where Are The Big Scissors?

Gotta flip the claendars over, might as well do this.

Minds been going sideways, it's like proximity just isn't right. Starting to do bad things they're all scared and angry. Tiring, just trying to relax but it's bad. I think it's the lysol and the caffiene, it's messing me up. Or maybe I'm just turning into an asshole. It's the people I work with, it rubs off when you can just scream cunt all the time and me giggled at.
here kitty kitty kitty
Just all toxic. I should apologize. Between the mood and the booze and standing off...

I miss them