Profiler is on television. this new red headed sexy chick that i recognise from someplace not here.
chatting to sidewinder online. good that we can be civil and satisfyingly without passion or feeling. very- clinical, our relationship is now. which is good, i guess.
but isn't it strange how you can spend so long loving someone? and then things happen and life gets in the way and you're happy and don't need them the way you used to?
no sign of life from the crippled russian sub. fuck. what a way to fucking die. how fucking terrifying.
smaoking a cigarette
don't update this site as much as either i, or drew would really like. i don't know. feels so ____blank____ just sitting here, writing away. nothing at all, not knowing who reads this. its not even like writing. there are no characters, no flowing together of the words. everything seems so stilted.
but i try, yes?
