Part 3...

I'm writing for the sake of writing. No fanciness, no righteousness...just words describing feelings. I'm hurting. Any real emotion must be perpetually accompanied by messy writing, salty tears, and the acknowledgement that one such as I feels. Alone, or lonely? Do I ever not pretend? Why so fake, why so faulty? Need more fuel...pause for toke. Unconditional love...easily bought. "Git yer unconditional luv here!" I miss conversation with someone I can kiss. Music played to smoke. The O's. The connection. The comedy.