Fuck, man, hard day. Nothing that I need or want to get into,, I'm just fuckin' glad that it's fuckin' over, you know? So now I'm at home and I'm not doing nothing and I'm trying to convince myself that it's okay.
Are you okay, farmboy?
Yeah, I'm just so fuckin' sensitive and OCD about every single little fuckin' thing. Pisses me off. It's no fun being me, I tell you what.
So I'm taking it easy, man. I'm letting myself drink diet Pepsi instead of water and I'm, like, not cooking and just doing snacks all the time. I get to surf the internet and then go to bed where I'll listen to Explosions in the Sky and eventually fall asleep.
And I try to convince myself it's all okay.
Which brings me back to my original question: Are you okay, farmboy?
Okay,, man, here it is. I'm depressed, I'm scared, I'm sad. I don't know what's gonna happen in the next few months and I like knowing what's ahead.
Also, work is been so...I don't know, there's this fuckin' dark cloud over everything, and it doesn't look like it's gonna pass any time soon.
But, basically, yeah, I'm okay. You?
Oh...I'm fine. I just worry about you, farmboy. And I know that I shouldn't.
Why shouldn't you?
Because you're going to be just fine.
How do you know that?
I just know.
You know what, man?
What, farmboy?
I'm glad you do, 'cause I have no idea where I'm going.
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