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It returns...

I'm getting that itch. That slow, intestine-twisting panic that comes from dwelling in this house for too long. I'm antsy, anxious, and I am feeling extremely claustrophobic. Above all I need to get out. I don't know what it is that makes me feel so fucking trapped here, but I can't stand it. It makes me want to scream. All of my nerves are charged and there's a complete lack of stimuli to create the catharsis I so desperately need. Everything here is so fucking stagnant and redundant, it's ridiculous. There is absolutely no change, ever. Everything dissolves into routine, and I'm left surrounded in the same tasteless predictability that I left 2 years ago when I first fled to Minneapolis, desperately hoping to find change.

Granted, I haven't seen Cody or Chris yet but even if I do - we'll just do the same damn things. Go to the park, or he'll want me to listen to his band's new songs, or we'll go to State Street and just walk for lack of anything better to do. Same thing with Chris. We'll either go to the skate park or watch some movie in his basement.

I feel like a bitch for ditching out on Sin City with Matt but he had plans before with his friend John and I didn't want to get in the way of that. Not to mention the fact that I have no real desire to see that movie, nor have I ever wanted to.

Christ. Well, Kyia is here and we're at least going to get out of our houses. Maybe we'll stumble onto something remotely entertaining. Who knows...



How sad is it that the best thing about the past two days is that I found out Bob Dylan is going to be in St. Paul on the 12th of July, and that tickets are apparently $115 dollars? So, as awesome as that show would be, it's exactly 115 dollars more than I can afford. UGH!

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