spilt, spun, and sore

just tired.
okay just tired and sad.
actually, just tired, and not real sad.
maybe it's like a sort of sad but definately tired.
well the you see, the sad isn't really sad but the tired is definately tired.
in reality the sad is more of an empty but the tired is like needle on E
so the sad maybe more of an extension of a tired that has been legitized by lack of sleep.
bottom line: the sadness is a shadow casted on the long brick wall of tired (which I truly am).


i have no idea, either. . . i'm just going to bed

today's soundtrack: ben folds five s/t; jesse malin the fine art of self-destruction; bright eyes digtal ash in a digital urn; dinosaur jr where you been; scott walker boychild; josh rouse 1972; joni mitchell court and spark; arcade fire funeral; morphine cure for pain; toad the wet sprocket fear