Uncertainty and the queeze.

I feel utterly absolutely fuck-yeah-rightly terrible and I'm not sure why.
Okay I lie. I have my suspicions but I pretty much hope that it's all just paranoia and me being too much of a 'literary genius'.
That would quell the nausea, kill the butterflies that are threatening implosion within my belly, maybe make me feign normal for one more day.

And then I'd do something about the paranoia. Lithium, yes.

Please please please pleaaaaaaaase god drop me some higher-power signs. Cause I'm pretty much tired of reading signs into whatever that may or may not be there. I want definites, I can learn how to deal with definites. Yes, learn.

I've gotten pretty good at salvaging anything out of nothing. But don't you call my bluff. Give me something.

there is nothing worse than being alone than being alone and insane.

that is all.