I have been looking my whole life for this moment. I think I slept through it.

I feel a bit better this morning. I was incredibly sick yesterday. A combination I think of not enough sleep, and stress over Nicole being gone is the culprit. Also the fact that I am working so much. I slept intermittently throughout the day. I was incredibly drugged up. I didn't want to feel my body. It was no longer familiar to me with all the aches and pains. I kept getting really cold, then really hot. I have noticed the last couple times I have gotten sick, that my brains fuzziness is very similar to how your brain feels after you smoke pot. So I tried to enjoy that aspect. Even right now I am having a hard to concentrating on this and getting into a flow of something to write. My mind is wandering all over the place. Partially absorbed in the music. Partially absorbed on preparing myself for work. Part of me wants to call in sick. But I won't. I don't do that unless I am pretty incapacitated. I have never called in sick yet I don't think. I want to keep it that way. I need something new in my life. I don't know what yet. But I am searching for whatever it may be.

If you get too comfortable in your habits you will never pursue half of your hopes and dreams I figure. That is something I am sure I would regret on my death bed. I want as little regrets as possible in this lifetime. I have my fair share already. I probably will have a lot more. But I want to keep it on a smaller scale if we are all doomed to regret. Imagine if I never left the continent? Fuck that. It isn't going to happen. I need to go to another continent. I need to go France. I need to smoke there. I need to drink fine wine. Coffee. Dining. I need to yell at the french with love. I need to touch my penis to the base of the Eiffel Tower. I need to meet Gorod. Just because they are an amazing band. French as fuck. I need to go to Amsterdam and take a shit in the streets. Apperently they don't have laws against where you can go to the bathroom there. I need to go in a cafe there and order from the menu with pot and mushrooms in it and trip out in public and it be an acceptable thing. I need to go to the red light district and get those classy prostitutes they have. I need to rave there.

Apperently they have fucking raves like you wouldn't believe. I want to own my own house. Fuck paying rent my whole life. That money goes towards nothing. At least if I mortgage a house, I am slowly paying it off, even if only a brick at a time. That brick will still be mine. I need to disappear for a while and not tell anyone I am leaving. No bullshit goodbyes and "I miss yous". I hate saying goodbye. I didn't even call Nicole yesterday. I didn't want to go through all that shit. I hate it a lot. I need to make my own wine. Practice and practice until I get really good at it. I want my room lined with oak barrels with wine agian in it. That would be such a great smell to wake up to and fall asleep to every night. There are so many things I want to do. Just thinking about it is overwhelming. This is why life is too short. But there are plenty of fucking reasons why it is too long as well. Fuck. I can't do this anymore.