This journal shit is really getting to me these days. I feel like I can't really write anything I want or need to talk about, I'm going back to the old archaic version so I can wallow in my own sorrows alone, where I like it.
I woke up at 6:18 from the worst dream ever. i dreamt there were cockroaches all over me. Huge ones. I couldn't get back to sleep, I kept feeling things crawling on me. Here's what it means: