All Dreams are made out of Real Things

It is sad to think that not one person reads this blog. I know I do not write all that well but it would be nice to see at least one person cares what i like to write about. Most of my close friends know that I have a blog, but none have ever asked for the address. Why is this? Is it because I am quite negative in my writings? Is it because they don't give a fuck what I think or feel? I suspect a mixture of both, but mostly the later. 

Why, when I am high, do I see everything that I hate about myself? I see the lazy, bored, unfocused and sick person I can be. My body aches. My ears ring and my mouth is dry. I cannot stand it, it worries me. I see all the failures in my life and i cannot figure out if those so called failures are real or not. Is it my subconscious showing me the changes I need to make, or am I just high as fuck?

A great song: Beck, True Love will find you in the End (a Daniel Johnston cover) 

An even better song: Wycleaf Jean, If I was President

Go download them both and play them at the same time backwards. Also, since nobody reads this blog I can say things like, vaginas scare me, and it isn't weird.