I am an inconsistent ball, made up of God knows what… muck, matter, who gives a fuck? Nothing ever makes sense. Things will never be simple. I will never breathe fresh air…

I feel that everyone is inconsistent and demented in their own way, but I believe it all stems from me. I believe my open mind will benefit the world one day. I feel it already has. A step forward and two steps back…

A class act; I go forward while walking backward and make all left turns. It’s a long, hard road to get where I am going. It’s a good nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand miles, from happiness. I am ready to walk each one. The name Myles finally makes sense…

The only thing that I keep consistent is the art of fucking my self in the long run. Thinking; well that’s a word that I have not fully grasped…

Or am I thinking entirely too much?

Sometimes I enjoy not thinking; I will never hold back. This exact moment, in this exact second of time; it is ludicrous and it’s been going on for ten years now…

It’s starting to get to me…

My memory is shot from drugs. I’m twenty three, it’s kind of embarrassing. I still do drugs; nothing hard anymore, just the basics…

I think criticism is interesting. A catch 22; like rain in April. I hope if this ever gets read by eyes other than mine, well I hope you tear it apart…

I wish I could reach out to people; but I’m afraid of the germs. That’s a problem, amongst so many other problems in my life. I’m yearning for adventure but never looking for trouble. Recently, all I have been able to find is trouble…

I wonder when it will end. When will this storm break and bare light? One way or another; smoke another cigarette, polish off the drink beside you and climb a mountain.

Pretty much my daily routine…