~ not again ~

what happens to the messages we send when they dont reach there destination? ... do all the messages go to a special meeting place to then be created into another message? the messages from an unknown sender always wishing you a happy birthday, or asking you if you injoyed last night?.
do the words run out after the flight path to the reciver has worn them out? ... where do all the missing texts go?

ive amazed myself for how much i now use the internet, im creeping close to being an internet junky, i use it to cure my need of riding, so instead of getting off my fat ass, i whip my laptop open and perv at the latest news on the world of grab handles and air filters. its a bit embaressing, i was an outdoor maniac, now i seem to live inside the brick house and play games.
i could change it... i could sit outside and play games?

my tree stump best female friend needs a brain transplant, im thinking of taking a crash course in brain surgery to help her out at a discounted price. i find myself struggling at times to understand things so i wonder about the strangest things when im doing something serious, but yet i remain focused on what i am doing. but tree stump seems to be going backwards in her years, her memory is worse than a small goldfish, and she seems to be called thick alot. i dont no if her blonde hair is having an effect on things as she ages. but its past the point of being funny, i could have more of a conversation with a 8 and a half year old about what they had been doing at school than i could to tree stump about if she has what she needs with her. its begining to be a ritual to make sure when she is leaving the house that she has everything, not to make sure she has money, but to make sure she has her coat, or has actully got her shoes on. she is turning into the blonde in all the blonde jokes, and now wouldnt even understand a blonde joke if it was presented to her with a synopsis and step by step reading methods. bless her cotton hair. i still love her but i think i feel intelligent when im with her now, there is a plus side to everything right?.

the music mystro is seeing my serious point of not using my beloved lyrics and my voice box, the arguements are now getting a bit heated, a bit like a mess tin on a fire. were starting to go black, but he already is black ... so what difference does it make?.
i want to keep my own music and lyrics i think to myself, i dont want them public to more than a few people. i apolgise, i say sorry and put my dwarfed arms in the air. he helped me, but to his benifit, and i dont want to be in on his next steps.

ive been wondering if the strange black object at the end of my bed is a mutant alien, it hasnt moved, but im a bit aprehensive to go and cheak but i think im going to. . . . . . its a bit of fluff. i supose its better to be safe than sorry or in this case a mad person with an object in her hand to flatten its organs.

i seem to have made a cup collection of the past day, i might take a picture of them, there is 5 cups, and they all held hot liquid like tea. no it wasnt like tea. it was tea. i woke up an relised what my mother would say if she saw it... there would be a sharp tone in her voice and she would say it looked like something of a council estate also followed by a tut. i hate tuts, there so annoying. it sounds like someone is sucking a toffee thats stuck to the roof of there mouth.
i dont no what it is with my mother and the well known phrase from here about it looking like something of a council estate, i think she has always despised them areas, and she doesnt need to worry as she wont ever live on one. but i dont see how a few clothes on the floor... or crumbs on the bench are a council estate replica?