A Disco Ball Is Just Hanging By A Thread.

It's another one of those nights where it's that irritating, dry, static hot air when I feel like any attempt at doing anything,
even just blanking out,
would just seem futile.

It really DOES feel like I'm non-existent.
Not in a self-pitying kind of way but in a more bizarre, awful reality that I'm just a walking slab of meat.

No conscience, no soul.

Sometimes,
living in a dream is just scary.

Then I realize...


...


I'm just being hormonal.
Whoooooops.







P.S. Contrary to how 'emotionally disturbed' this entry may seem, Owl City's Fireflies and all their other songs are extremely ADORABLE. Go! Download! Listen! NOW.

Note to self:
STUDY LA, WOMAN! D: