On Moans and Thinking Straight

I am back in a better state of mind.

Things have been going smoothly, from what I am recalling. I've been dazed and stoned on the daily, but I'm not hurting anyone and nobody is hurting me.

I sit here, quietly in a quiet room. I am sipping on my late afternoon coffee that I get myself everyday before I leave work. Hey, my day has just started. My evening will go how it has been going lately; internetting, some cleaning, some smoking, and probably some sex. These are the things that have been grasping my sanity.
"I know I've said this before and I know anyone can say this, but that was the best sex I think I've ever had." I said.
and
"Nobody has ever fucked me like that." I said.
I meant it because I admitted that I know it's an easy thing to say. It's one of the oldest tricks in the book; ya gotta make them feel good about it all so they'll come back. Well, this one keeps coming back no matter what I end up saying. But we're all replaceable and nothing is unconditional. That's what I have to be reminded of.

I just want to speak my mind always. It's the language that I know best.

Styrofoam is blaring from my desktop. This song takes me back to the Daily City house, or shit, maybe even their Fair Oaks house. I don't know. But it definitely takes me to the mini van. Oh how I loved that big, blue van. It signified so much more than what it was. It was how it all began; getting to Hayward, transporting the bikes, and moving.

My life changes so much, so often, all the time. I have never met stability. Is she pretty and nice like they say?