homicidegirl

It's 4:!5 am. At 3 am I fled my family's house and sought Zelda and milkshakes at the apartment. Now that I have had these things I can take a moment back and reflect. I've found music that I can ignore, have lots of smokes, and it seems that my typing is spastic tonight and beyond my control. I wonder if I should sleep, or if that is merely an insane suggestion brought forth by my own strange state of mind. I don't feel well in any way, shape, or form. Lots of listening to Portishead and staring at the wall.


fuck it