neoacidcreep

There’s such a difference between my room and my house.  It’s like being in a different world when everyone is asleep and the lights are out, my house kind of scares me.  Enter into my room and it is like the house exhaling.  It is a sigh of relief, a sigh of sanity-returned.  It’s just weird to me that there is no difference between my room and my house, just a threshold separating the two “ideas”, and yet for some reason entering into my room is like returning to the sane rational knowable world.

…I need to unpack still.

I’ve got some of it done…not much.  Just so much clutter from such a short life.  Where did all this shit come from?  Didn’t I throw shit out?  And yet?! MORE SHIT!?

I think I might like someone.  Which means I have been thinking about someone, someone in particular, which probably means that I like ‘er. 

Slutever though.

Can’t like her.  Would be totally counter-productive to get into a relationship with anyone.  I need to get out the party guy in me before I can even think about settling down.  I just want party a little, not just do drugs and be a dick.  But to just be able to go out and not have to worry about petty squabbles and inside jokes.  To go out and experience the world without a buffer.  Without a concern that “my girl won’t like this”, or “I am in so much trouble when I get home”.  It is so nice to not be bothered by those trifling things.

To be able to flirt and dance, meet people, ugh, meeting people.  You can never meet anyone when you are in a relationship.  You always either get tagged along or have to worry about your girl catching you talking to these chicks.  You never talk about anything but your girl and what she does…ugh.

And yet.  I like this girl.  So, there’s that.  But slutever.

Context:

I promised to write an entry about the after effects of my acid adventure, I never did write anything.  So I figured it’d be cool if I updated while tripping.

…but…I am done…