Lame. Everyone? You? Or is it just me?
Today the sun shone but I didn't feel so bright and as I woke up entangled in my mother's new itchy sheets I had this feeling I might as well not even get out of bed at all. In an effort to be optimistic I did anyway, seeing as I had plans for this February Monday and putting them off was no longer an option. I suppose that should have been a hint to never follow through with the plans at all, seeing it took so long for me to even scrounge up enough nobility to do so. The day's almost finished though, so it's not like it matters much anyway. I hate days like today, where you feel as though you've wasted what could be God's last gift to you. Apparently that's why the people are always saying, "Live every day like it's your last." But today I didn't do that, and it's displayed in my irritable attitude and lack of kindness. I don't know why I'm writing but I just read The Perks Of Being A Wallflower online and seeing as the stupid website let me go no further than page 5, I have nothing better to do. Love is pretty chill until the happy records start skipping and you realize your love is scathed, just like the old vinyl that cannot be repaired even with today's modern technology. Therefore, I'm not too fond of love, but do all I can to keep my vinyl immaculate. Trying to do the same with my emotions would be naive; I know because I've tried. So here I am. I'd say I'm back to square one, but I would be lying because lately this trip of life has only taken me forward. And even though there's never any stopping, right now it would be a mistake to pull the breaks because my particular Life Mobile happens to be traveling at least 100 miles faster than it usually does, with no opposing lanes to swerve into in case life throws me a head-on collision. I'm not a very kind person, and this is apparent to anyone who's met me. It's only the people who know me that identify me as perhaps the kindest person they've ever met. And the kindness I speak of is not defined merely by words and actions, but more severely by my general thoughts about you. So I guess I'm never really that kind to anyone, considering it's rare I'll be pondering how wonderful your soul is. It's a bit depressing, but true. I hardly ever think of those close to me in a positive way; the reason I'm even thinking about them at all is to give them turns at getting bitch slapped in my head. In a way I still believe the certain person I'm thinking of negatively should be flattered though, because I obviously care enough about them to break down their shitty personality and discover what it is about them that makes me tick. Either way, it's almost a waste of time, because in the end negative thoughts only turn into a laundry list of negative traits and things that are wrong with the person. In the end, it really doesn't matter much anyway. I enjoy jacuzzi's and embracing the sweet melodies of The Shins while avoiding all contact with the world outside of my headphones. So relaxing, unlike algebra, which is only good for mapping out angry emotions and madness in a logical equation to give hopes of quotients to my evermore colliding thoughts. Goodnight.