Insight.
Normally I try to make these things have a point so that an outside observer could see their worth, even if they do not immediately agree with the view. I don't have any of that tonight. I have an oral presentation on the physiology of love due in around ten hours. I have every regret of a break up weighing upon me, all the doubt and want of a second chance, and caffeine coursing through me so as to not want to sleep, and take the edge off. I get to look at the neurotransmitters responsible for the three scientifically examined stages of love. Wonder what I fucked up. What we fucked up?
I have an exclamation that has so many consonants in it, it could be mistaken for something in Klingon. "Kraggddgnngghhtttkkkrr" All I have is myself, and some angst and drama, which are also me. Writing this is me. All this sad shit I have been feeling for the past two weeks, general depression and pangs of loneliness every time I see the two of them together, is also, as stated before, me.
I hate the fact that I couldn't get in touch with Liza Koski. I wanted to talk to her again after session but I never had the chance. She was a righteous babe, that had her shit straight. I respected her, and was waiting for her to get in touch with me after she got back from Brazil. That was ages ago. Shes fuckin' dead now. I hate the me that wasn't constantly trying to get in touch with her. I should have been a better friend.
I wonder how many other people feel the same way, blaming themselves. All of her stories and our shared lamentations of work and making some shitty half-bridge piece of shit, are all so fresh. Like when we discovered that the mosquitoes were small enough to squeeze through our mosquito net.
Fuck indents. These aren't paragraphs. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paragraph
Don't go back and read it again faggot.
In fact stop reading now.
Whatever it's over anyway.
I have an exclamation that has so many consonants in it, it could be mistaken for something in Klingon. "Kraggddgnngghhtttkkkrr" All I have is myself, and some angst and drama, which are also me. Writing this is me. All this sad shit I have been feeling for the past two weeks, general depression and pangs of loneliness every time I see the two of them together, is also, as stated before, me.
I hate the fact that I couldn't get in touch with Liza Koski. I wanted to talk to her again after session but I never had the chance. She was a righteous babe, that had her shit straight. I respected her, and was waiting for her to get in touch with me after she got back from Brazil. That was ages ago. Shes fuckin' dead now. I hate the me that wasn't constantly trying to get in touch with her. I should have been a better friend.
I wonder how many other people feel the same way, blaming themselves. All of her stories and our shared lamentations of work and making some shitty half-bridge piece of shit, are all so fresh. Like when we discovered that the mosquitoes were small enough to squeeze through our mosquito net.
Fuck indents. These aren't paragraphs. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paragraph
Don't go back and read it again faggot.
In fact stop reading now.
Whatever it's over anyway.
Comments