That's that horrible painting that was in my mother's apartment when I got it. Remember that fucking thing? It's hanging on a wall at an Asian restaurant in Flushing now. I went to take a look a while back, I don't even remember the name of the place or where it is, to be honest. All I know is that it looks much better on their wall than it did on mine. Good fucking riddance.
Fuck this Christmas music is killing me. I'm at the deli on the corner because I still have no internet. They're playing non-stop Christmas music and it's making me want to break things.
But anyway, I came across that picture and had to laugh. I gave the painting to some dude on craigslist. I gave most of her shit to him, lamps and couches and chairs and more awful paintings. He got all kinds of crap out of my hair. The house looks so much better now.
Except the fucking bathroom floor. If something isn't done about it soon I don't know what's going to happen. I can't look at it anymore, much the same way I felt about the painting. But I have a plan. It's all coming together.
Sorry for the unfocused randomness here. Actually, no. I'm not sorry.
The music, I can't take it anymore. I have to go, I have to leave. Can't do it. Tomorrow will be better, I swear...
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