I was just reading some of my old posts, and Jesus H. Christ on a stick, I have a problem.  I used to be kind of funny, and then at some point I just sank into the fucking mire of self-pity and angst.  Oops.
   
     I don't know what happened, really.  I guess my life just started to suck a little bit more, and then I started writing less and complaining more when I DID write.  It's kind of the like the diary thing - people usually only write extensively in a diary when things turn to shit.  When everything is good, they're too busy living life to sit down and write about all the happy thoughts.  So ... sorry about that.   (I think.)

     I wonder what I would have been like if I'd been born without this existential angst hovering like a cartoon cloud above my head.  Or maybe it's just all the alcohol and narcotics lingering in my spinal column.  I'll never know!!

     So to the single person (probably not even a single person at this point, because I've alienated every single demographic I can think of), um, sorry?   I suck.

     Love, Holden