Virgil

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And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day

i have completely and utterly lost any and all of my creative ability. this is probably because i'm too tired to lift my head off my shoulder, but i prefer to think of it as a massive case of writers block.

i've spent so long convincing myself that relationships are a futile exercise in heartbreak that i'm not sure what to do now that i want one.

What I love is how I don't need to have my eyes open to type here. I can just sit here with my chin digging into my shoulder and my eyes closed, typing clickety click away at my kyboard, completely not awake.

I smell waffles, which is strange because it's been quite a while since brunch. the strawberry rhubarb stuff had too much strawberry in it.

I really do look like I'm asleep, aside from the fingers, constantly moving and doing something. doesn't spcify what something, just that something is being done.

holy fork, i'm tired. and its not so much that im lonely or even thst im crushing on someone (which im not, not really i dont think) i just feel...i dont even know. too fucking tired. this has been a day full of profanity. i enjoy the word 'fuck' so much more than i should.

and for the record, im not offended so much as rejected and dejected and a little sad. but i do understand.

this is why i dont see the appeal of being drunk. if i wanted to be stupid and uninhibited, i just wont get enough sleep.