a crack on the head is what you get for asking

attempting to spin this mood around. I'm looking at it from the optimistic point of view. trying. trying to see the silver lining, and all those other silly sayings.

high and happy, that's what I am. that's what I'll be.

I don't want to be this person anymore. complaining, whimpering, bitter, lonely, unbalanced, deranged. I don't want to kick my feet and pout and cry, throw my childish tantrums. bite the hand that feeds me. attack on impulse. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

I used to. I used to fall asleep comfortably in my old shell. but not anymore.

I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't dream. without these crazy visuals staining my eyelids...they're everywhere. there's traces left of these odd, troublesome fantasies imprinted on my fingertips. I'm itchy, I'm bothered. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

smile. smile. smile. I'll laugh it off. I'll slowly piece back together the old me. the one before I was ruined, tainted. I want me back.

but sometimes it's really hard to distinguish the line between the old me and the me now.

where did I end, and where did I begin?

loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly

though she needs you more than she loves you