I can explain.

love hearing the fire alarm go off outside my window. It makes me giggle, because I didn’t even know the fire alarms functioned.

For the lovely violin playing outside my room! You’re making it so hard for me to stay awake and try to find a ride to in n’ out. <3 seriously though you sound fantastic. and I am hungry.

My toe is broken and infected, I have to declare a major today that I don’t want to study, my advisor is a fucking dumbass, I may not be able to live off campus next year because I didn’t fill out the required forms, I feel like I’m going to puke, I may have gotten pink eye in one eye again, my room is a mess, my laundry isn’t finished, no one is picking up their phones, hall draw is tomorrow, I feel like I’m going to puke. I have a million pictures to edit, I’m still unemployed this summer, I am lonely, I have no pot, I feel fat.

I hate posting only negative things. So. Sorry. 

this is not political.

I am the most well-intended person. I swear.

Sometimes moving around is hard and your back hurts, and you just want to be lethargic and sit all the time but you secretly know that it won’t make you feel better. Getting out and breathing fresh air and giving hugs, that’s a game changer.

YO, you roofied her and she still didn’t hook up with you. In fact, she hooked up with someone else. That blows.

you’re clearly not good in any state of mind.

you notice when you don’t see certain acquaintances as often as you used to. and it’s a shame, because most of the people I know here put the widest smile on my face.

have absolutely no reference dictionary to accompany the last post I made. My apologies for being drunk on a wednesday. 12:00 class tomorrow, I suppose it’s time for good night.

so long, lovelies!

I suppose I left all my innermost, ADHD thoughts for my tumblr or at least my quailskin. whatever. this nice black leather miniature notebook I’ve got. bearskin. okay. quailskin. moleskin. moleskin. I guess, I mean, writing in someone else’s notebook is just like talking to them. except talking to myself, but with an audience. It sounds incredibly dangerous, but also I mean, I feel like I try to be as honest as possible with everyone. I guess I’m kind of a hypocrite if I’m more honest with myself than others. But it’s nice to also consider and acknowledge that my innermost thoughts are the same as my surface thoughts are the same as my thought thoughts are the same as my speaking words. Reassurance of my genuineness, I guess, it what I’m ultimately satisfied by.

I guess this is all a load of who knows what. But ultimately, I always will love maroon five from summer of 2002. classic.

if cocaine helps you get shit done or whatever you think it’s doing to benefit you. Cocaine is stupid. Take some fucking adderall if you need a boost. Addiction isn’t cool, it isn’t fun, it’s terrifying both for the people around you and yourself. It’s melting your brain. I won’t love you any less, I won’t give up or abandon you, and I won’t consider you any less of a person, but I will think you’re dumb for voluntarily melting your brain like that. It’s times like these that I am so thankful for my high school friends and experiences, because I at least have some semblance of sense about these things. If cocaine is anything to you, it should be a treat – not a lifestyle. Grow a fucking pair.

FUCK YOU I’M HOMESICK.

And wake up and go to a fair, where the teachers all try to get me to sign up for their classes. And there’s cotton candy and fire-breathers and math is fun again and writing classes aren’t impossible to get into, and then I can start all over and just be happy.