it really makes my stomach churn. my thoughts are literally being laundered. all of them. i can't even... be. i'm shaking. i'm literally itching to write, but i have nothing to say. WHAT. HAPPENED. whatever.
and i can't wait for this. Or that. Montreal, on an empty wallet, boo. And going to see mcgill and concordia with m'love. soooaaaakkkkkinnnnn' it in. but it's good to be home. like really home.
oh yeah, and in the words of mutemath: i know you stay true when my world is false. you are like air to me; i need you, always.
also, i need to bring art back into my life. ANYTHING. I've drawn myself into such an apathetic hole in some senses; it's really disgusting. i've just realized what a jumble this is. i'm kind of a jumble so it works. time to crack down, sort it out, bring it up, and talk it out. go time.