it's insane stressing about money. It keeps me up worse than any shitty break up or any shitty shit with anyone (it's 9am and i am already so eloquent). Most of the time (particularly as of late), whenever I am home and am getting nagged at about my future and/or any forms of responsibility, I just quietly imagine myself to be quietly dead in ...mmm maybe three years? And I swear on all that may be unholy, I stop panicking for a quietly dead second and am suddenly at peace/out of my mind/unresponsive.
Is it so abnormal to be so morbidly indulgent with the thought of death? Incidentally, last night im sure I said something about death being my wet dream. But in truth (most honestly), death is my ULTIMATE wet dream. Not just any one night wet dream. The ULTIMATE. Cream dreams of dead freaks. I swoon, I fucking sway.
But I keep in mind (I think?), although one may be irresistibly inclined to and have a jarring affinity for death, it doesn't make one necessarily suicidal. In my case, yes, it probably means i am. But it may also mean that I am merely and annoyingly (not to mention embarrassingly) melodramatic. What's a blog without the drama???
It's 930 and I cant fall back asleep. Maybe I should watch I Melt With You.
