how many sleeps until you come back?

[epiphanization]

how endearing.

i hate washing dishes, not the actual task, but the fact that the whole time i'm standing at the sink i have nothing to do but remember.

i was listening to bright eyes earlier, and let me tell you i love this guy. if i were an entertainer i would be the female version of him. we're so much alike, besides the drugs...for the most part. his voice (which isn't that great) the acoustic guitar. oh the lyrics. yeah the lyrics.

for the sake of making sense i'll further explain how those two paragraphs relate to each other:

i was remembering (washing dishes) earlier when i realized that i don't even really live in a real world. THE real world. i live in my own little town. my own little fantasy world where nothing ever makes sense and justice is never served. it's a sad place to be. i wondering now how to leave, thinking that now since i know i'm there i can get on a train and that would be farewell. it's not that easy.

i think conor oberst and i live on the same street.

i need to stop asking people to be my escape.