I find myself counting seconds again. I do not anticipate anything. I do not really dread anything higher than an essay. yet i still feel the passage of each individual grain of sand, stark in its reality, as it falls to the bottom of the chamber. I am reminded of my mortality. Odd, isn't it?
I can make ringtones and send them to whichever phone I wish! It's marvelous! And, I might add, finally free. Joy. Spring break is upon us and I might FINALLY get to play a game of paintball. Hilarity ensues when I learn how much it will fucking hurt. JOY!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! --- Thank you, that is all.
Everything's as normal as normal gets around here. It figures. I take something I should be geniunely happy about and beat myself up for it. Tiffany came down pretty hard on me. Just talking to her struck a nerve somewhere. *sigh* silver lining my ass. I'm just so damn tired...
I struggle to put my thoughts into a readable and understandable context. I know what I'm thinking without knowing, if that makes any sense
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