Mood: Rotten
Can't sleep. No idea what to say or how to say it. Too lazy to get my own live journal, too.
Ever feel discontented to the point of paralysis? Like all you can do is stare at the wall, hearing nothing in your head but a loud, angry hum, like high-tension electrical wires?
What the fuck. I've got my own little cell here, so I'm a-lockin' myself in it for a while. No idea what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. Which would explain why I'm venting inexplicable feelings to a bunch of strangers on a website. My suckitude rises ever higher.
