a fuckin' sunday

just writing to write. have to waste time. waiting for the sun to set, so i can panhandle. i'm in starbucks on sunset and la brea, downloading. it's five pm on a sunday. i'm sober. the other day, someone stole my cart with my sleeping bag, pillows, panhandling sign, and old laptop bag in it. luckily the bag didn't have anything valuable in it, other than my nail clippers and tweezers. heartburn pills, my other sharpie, cheap shit. listening to birthday massacre right now. i still don't know what to think or what to do. the best i can think, is find places around this city where there are seven elevens close to libraries, and see how many metal people i meet. i still can't attract a female's eye. they are trained so well to not see trench coats. although, i'm getting a bit of an upskirt right now in the starbucks, i'll still never get to see a skirt flip up, or a tit hang out, or anything. until i start my own community, i will remain completely invisible. i can't attract my type of people, and i still don't know where to find them, and no one wants to help. not one human on this planet wants to have anything to do with me. that's so nice to know, cause i can't wait to use that as a weapon later. but that's all i can think of, is keep moving around, which i hate doing, but i have to find what part of this town has a good library next to a seven eleven, no bugs, no wind, some shade, no drug addicts, is that too much to ask? maybe some metal people, or god forbid some fuckin' females. yeah, i know that's too much to ask, but what does that say about who i'm asking.

after i figure out this town a little more... give it to the end of this month, october... when i get november's money, i'm seriously thinking about going back up to seattle. there's nothing here for me, no metal, no hippies, nothing. no love in any form. just products, clones, and credit cards. when am i finally going to meet a real human who notices me, and doesn't run away in fear. are you people that weak.

that's all i see around me are weaklings, people who wouldn't survive a fuckin' breeze. you have to stay safe in the safety of your car till you get to the safety of your home cause god forbid a wind come blowing along and fuck up your five hundred dollar hair style, it would ruin your day!

i don't know what else to write, that's just a little update for now. tried asking lai for help, sent her an email, haven't heard back. got an email from sandra i have to reply to. i also need to email cecilie and greg, and need to ask max for his email so i can email him, cause i wanted to email all four of them at once, asking them advice on what the fuck i should do. i'm not liking the people or the weather or the concrete here in cancer city, i'm really wanting to go back up to seattle where i know where everything is, it's not too far away, there's not that many drug addicts, there's more women... i don't know. i'm so sick of this world. nothing good ever happens, and it's because of you, and how fucking boring you all are. you and your leaders really went to sleep on this thing, didn't you. especially wherever the heart dare be involved. if you were going for apathy, you certainly succeeded.

i feel so sick.