Last night I had a dream about Bruce McCulloch. Every time this happens I realize that I am, in fact, a drug addict. This brings me back to Ani DiFranco, little plastic castle and the hip's Phantom Power. I don't know why some things have to be capitalized, this is my fucking paragraph, and i'm sick of worrying about what college i'm going to go (back) to, or what bra color goes with my corresponding t-shirt, or why i should or shouldn't do what you all want me to say, maybe I don't like it when I say the right thing, maybe it makes me a better person , or even better off worse for not giving a fuck about what you think about me and doing the right girl, or a phisiological disaster that ends up changing the world for the better. would anyone care if i deleted this entire paragraph by accident, and if not, then I will type it.