I should know better, I really should...

Is it time for a nervous breakdown yet? I want a nervous breakdown. Please, let me indulge myself in a nervous breakdown. A proper one, for once, I'm tired of being half assed about things.

Only I'm not. I'm fine, really, just not particularly stable and I don't know why. Everything itches, like I'm suddenly too loose in my skin and it's all sliding off.

It amuses me that I can rattle off my credit card number with a fair amount of ease, but I'm amazingly paranoid about forgetting my pin number. It's nice to see pending deposits, especially since I know I'm going to be hurting a bit once dad deposits the check I gave him for the car.

Ignore me, I actually have disgusting amounts of money. Disgusting.

*sigh* The reason I don't write fanfic is that it embarasses me. Particularly the game fic, since it'll always be a hell of a lot more important to me than it will be to anyone who reads it, which is just plain sad. But other fic- since I know the only people who read this thing aren't into my fandoms, it'd just be pointless wankery on my part and- ah, hells.

I should know better.

Anyway. I'd decided yesterday in the long, involved, and somewhat angsty blog post that I was born too late. This of course led into speculation on all the things I can't ask my parents and would have degenerated into something rambling on why I wish I smoke sometimes but I didn't get that far because Blogger hates me.

Not that I didn't deserve it; I was being whiny.

I think I'm tired; strange, I went to bed so very early last night. Couldn't handle being a friend last night. Still feeling bad about that. I feel like I take too much 'me' time as it is. And what I'm probably doing right now is fishing for sympathy that I haven't done anything to deserve, so please, feel free to ignore this.

There I go again. Should know better. Some people never learn, I suppose.

When you have something and lose it, there's always the chance of having it again. No one is so scarred that they can't ever love again. Not that I would know, it's just what I, in my happy, idealistic, Taoist world, would like to think. Number 29, baby, that's what it's all about.

But when you've never had something, how can you be sure?

I have an English paper to write that I haven't even started thinking about, but all that's running through my head is fanfic that I'll always be too embarassed to write, because I can never be any less pathetic than I have been, only more.

Angst angst angst bitch moan whine. I'll shut up now.

I should know better.