Cosmetic Surgery

tuesday morning [my roomate is talking] 'what a strange day', she says. she's been away from her mom and dad for 2 1/2 months before. what an ordeal. neatly capitalized and reoganized the social butterfly flaunts her charms and all I can see are insects. I sat next to an old man smoking a pipe and ate a box of crunch 'n munch. and listened to someone playing the bagpipe outside of city hall. I'm tired of the sun and I do not like the cold.
tuesday night, 12:35, headache, red face, red hands, red room, red walls, I fear I'm going bald. at 11 am tomorrow Canada's wonderland, I'll go, it's how I'll say, "I am not depending on you alone". and the indie pop star sings me a sweet melody and tells me it will be alright. don't shower often enough. maps and subway tokens and she [my roomate] still smells like shit, I guess she always will. I want to be the one they all want to be, saying no it's true she really is too cool for us. mostly we just get some donuts. there's so many people, how do they all remember who they are? I'm not asian. I'm burning half human and half fire and the rest of me is made out of teeth. dragging knives through me, oh please. just wait untill tomorrow or the next day. Canada's wonderland is not a real reason, okay. dropped like a rock outta the sky.