Nothing of Consequence

The week has been one miserable blur. With nothing of that sweet ol'goodness happening to this poor withered soul. And to boot i think im being to catch a bug. I think I'll call him Sheldon. So i write this with a sore throat, a lonely mind and the sounds of Trail of Dead flowing through my demented, drug induced mind. To think in a city this big one person could feel so alone. Things could be better....