There's a million things rushing around in my brain. There's so many things I wish I could say to you but at the same time I don't want to at all because I either think I know exactly what you'd say, or I have no idea.
Today I was happy. Inexplicably happy. I mean that, too. I didn't really feel like I had a reason to be happy. In fact I felt like I had more reasons to not be happy, until I remembered the friends I have and that yes, people do in fact care about me, strange as it seems. On another not completely unrelated note, you mess with my brain. Too much. I feel like an idiot sometimes. Most of the time. But usually just while texting. Is it strange that it's exceedingly easier for me to talk to you in person? Probably not. I don't really know what I;m talking about anymore, but goodnight, cruel, lovely world.
Vigesimation - The act of killing every twentieth person
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