I think I'm meant to live in a crackhouse. I've stopped bothering putting the cushions together, making my bed and making my room livable. My head's like that. Messy. Overdosed with junk and procrastination. Filled with thrill and the horror of finding dead insects here and there. The rickety drawers filled with nice paper bags and entangled wires, stacks of overdued library books, paintings thrown in distraught. Oddly enough, my room smells like shoe cupboard now.

I'm boredddddddd. No one asked me out today. I am sad ): This is the part where I wish fishboy is waiting for me at the traffic light near my house. Everyone needs a break. I need a smelly blanket or a soap smelling boy to hug and smell every single day.

Booooooo.

Labels: blah