Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Sometimes.

You just gotta smoke a mental j.(ag) and let your insomnia floaaaaaaaaaaat away.
See, happy?
I feel like I'm in high school. 
If you're thinking because of the maturity level here, I never left high school in that department. 
I feel, physically, like I did in high school. Late nights, early mornings, little food because you're too lazy to make a full meal for one. Nothing agrees. I'm not pregnant, I'm not depressed, I'm not even lonely.
 I'm just missing my noisemaker. 
The hum of breath and the soft snore delivering security.

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