pudding

Chalk this one up to a general feeling of hopelessnes, because i'm tired like usual and bored like ususal and my guilt keeps me from moving around a whole lot. like a depressed snail, i should have my own comic strip, me and my sad little sail companion that doubles as a metaphor for my fragile ego. we wouldn't do much, but maybe it would be relatable in some small way. it is at this point that i must do away with the pretense that my profile picture creates. i put makeup on for this picture because normally i would look pink and splotchy, this is the only reason i look close to even. i know it is so vain to get all made up just for a profile pick. feel free to tell me so. but all my other ones were shit. and i might as well look put together on the outside, if you are reading this you know bits of me crumble off every five minutes or so. you can set your fucking watch by it. case was lovely enough to deliver frozen mac and cheese and powerade, thank god for the people that do things that make a big difference in your quality of life but they never know it, even though you try to let them know. made no sense. oh well, this is for me, and i know what it all means. there are things, and experiences , and even feelings in life that you can't understand. a strange stab of insight. and i just had one, so brief but it hangs out with you for a while. disregard that. i keep getting interupted! not that being interupted is all a bad thing when your mind is sketchy. i just you all to know that i am a hopeless romantic, even to the pathetic point of holding on to feelings that i know on the other end are dead or waining. i know, gross isn't it. i wish my condradictory optimism/ pesimism would stop so i could give myself a lable and stick to it. it would help to be just one, to have a focus. this is the most garbbled entry ever, my deep apologys to anyone who deems in neccesary to read this.