143 637.

Chin up, friends. You only live once, right? But how many times can you die? I'm a welcome mat for dirty feet and dirty hearts. I hate this compulsion to type whenever and whatever I feel. Involuntary. Much like breathing or the beating of hearts. Or the stopping of both. Sometimes I just want to drop everything. Sometimes I want to forget, but at the same time, remember and not feel. Sometimes pictures, rumors, and the clicks of these keys are all I want to be. I'm always shooting blindly and in the dark. A boy's gotta dream though, right? But even on my best day, even if and when all the stars and planets have aligned, I still couldn't come close to touching you. Neverend. You were wrong about subconciously missing you. I'm pretty much concious of it. I just try not to do anything stupid. But here I am yet again, doing something relatively stupid.

I've got precisely 143 myspace friends. Howsickeninglycute, right?