you're nobody til somebody loves you...

i really pushed it with leaving the apartment late this mourn -- and i still made it on time, but i got lucky. can't get too cocky or i'll end up really fucking up.

things are winding down on 20'05. what a ballbreaker of a year it's been. twenty-oh-four ended in a fucking coma. oh-five's ending on death, with the dim promise of resurrection.

being alone/unloved/unwanted/despised isn't so bad, really. i don't need anyone to complete me. i'm a perfect hate-machine all on my own. pretty on the inside. the death of the party. the only time my solitude is pronounced is when i'm hanging out with couples. which is almost all the time. then it's the dog's bollocks.

to hell with love...