My stomach feels funny because I’m 7 glasses of old monk down.
Fuck this shit.
Plethora of emotions. Happiness, tears of joy, fear, hurt, pain.
All at once.
I want a cigarette so bad it’s not funny.
I want to go back to my hostel :(
I love auto correct :D
Conversations. Inhibitions. Issues. Complex.
College. School gates. WordPress. Stomach.
What do you want? What is the depth of your emotions? What is the clarity?
I miss airports.
I like airports.
I like stories. I imagine small ones in my head.
So many questions. No answers. I wish I knew. I wish I knew.
I hate the word fukkity. So fucking annoying.
Why is it not raining here man? So hot under my blanket!
Messaging. Text message. Email. Communication.
Look, you can stay for as long as you want to okay? But take an out as soon as you have even the slightest ray of doubt.
Don’t be rational.
To hurt than not hurt at all? Atleast that’s a fucking emotion. Atleast that’s better than feeling numb?
Fake. Pretentious. Plastic. Why?
Confusing. This is. Like two years all over again. Why the fuck is it like this. I want to cry.
I’m not even high. Just. Normal. I feel all the normal emotions. It’s nothing. It’s a lie.
Conventional lies. Like “Yeah I’m fine :) ” when I know I’m hurting inside.
How much should I say and not say I don’t know. So I’ll say it anyway.
I’m tired. Exhausted. Mentally. I want to break down. Break down to empty myself. I’m not hurting. No. I cannot understand what’s happening around anymore. I cannot fathom shit anymore. Cannot see the fucking difference. Cannot see clearly.
I don’t like you. I don’t know you. I have no memory of you anymore. It’s been just too fucking long. And I’m going to let go of you, your voice and your memory.
That is something I’ve been telling myself all the time.
Fuck it. Never happens. Uselessness. Marginal utility. Haha. Yeah. Okay. Fiscal deficit.
OPEN MARKET SYSTEM! XD
Haha. Okay. Lame.
Stop thinking stop thinking stop fucking thinking.
I Like my nose piercing I haven’t yet got BWHAHAHA. Also, faith. Or courage?
Who gives a fuck about courage. I’m not a soldier, or a paranormal expert.
Okay. This is one conversation that I might have had the other times I was drunk.
I’m not drink.
Okay? Shweta! If you’re reading this, IM NOT DRUNK!
And the German was cute heeeeeheeeee.
I shall speak in Greek.
I don’t know Greek. I know Latin though.
Un. Dos. Tres.
Fuck it -.-
I should not post this. No. You’re not going to post this.
But it’s your blog anyway man. Fuck it. I will.
:D sorted scenes. Aw.
Stupid fucking blanket. Stupid weather is stupid.
Oh so lame.
I want to write a really thoughtful blog post but yeah this is all I can really come up with right now. Yeah. This is kind of thoughtful though.
My blog URL as your highnesses may have noticed is “Yayihaveablog”.
Which is very thoughtful.
I mean. Don’t we rejoice? Like “Yay I passed”.
Same thing :)
Doesn’t make sense does it?
I want breakfast already. I feel funny. And jumpy. Over excited about what I don’t know.
Okay I’m tired now. And I will probably regret posting this but i will either way.
Helen, you make me the fucking sandwich.
Who is Helen?