i can't sleep.
at least i can eat.
and thinking isn't a problem.
or actually it is.
i can't stop thinking.
i'm doing what i hate most.
fretting.
fretting when i have absolutely no answers or ideas to help fix or alleviate the problem.
nice.
i'm having two bad weekends in a row.
then maybe things will look up.
hopefully.
hopefully by then i will have made some decisions and figured some things out.
oh god.
am i broke.
and what sucks is, i can't see it ending any time soon.
i'm going to be broke forever.
and it will be grand.
why do i always update when i can't sleep?
fuck that.
goodnight.
at least i can eat.
and thinking isn't a problem.
or actually it is.
i can't stop thinking.
i'm doing what i hate most.
fretting.
fretting when i have absolutely no answers or ideas to help fix or alleviate the problem.
nice.
i'm having two bad weekends in a row.
then maybe things will look up.
hopefully.
hopefully by then i will have made some decisions and figured some things out.
oh god.
am i broke.
and what sucks is, i can't see it ending any time soon.
i'm going to be broke forever.
and it will be grand.
why do i always update when i can't sleep?
fuck that.
goodnight.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Anything we can do?
Here's some odd boob trivia: if you take apart one of those mini soccer balls, the inner "tube" part of it feels incredibly like a boob. So much so that if you hand one to a straight man, he'll have a hard time letting go of it. I know I didn't want to.