lance armstrong is my boy.

i know why i am up late. but i don't know why.

I know that I'll have to feed the animals in a few hours... why am i still here... i know if i go i won't sleep, i know if i go, i'll wonder and wander on... why does everything have to be so much harder now? i have planted the seeds of hate. all i have to do now, is water them and nurture them to flowering. every drop i wonder if this is something i will regret for the rest of my life.

i guess we'll just see. that's what this is destined to be isn't it? an accounting of my misadventures.

homework for tonight is: are mistakes actually mistakes?