Thursday, June 15, 1989

I slept late today and didn’t and couldn’t do much with all the fucking rain we’ve been having. My allergies and lungs are killing me and I’m so depressed. If I ever want to sing better I must quit smoking, but of course, that’s easier said than done. I fucking feel like I’m dying, I’m so short of breath. I’m so lonely, so bored too. If I could only stop smoking and feel and sing better. Then I’d have so much more energy and motivation to do all the other stuff I do pertaining to music. I’d be so happy, too. But a girlfriend is the last thing on my mind. A relationship is definitely something I can do without and don’t need or desire anymore. Not in the cards for me for sure.

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