She's so high

if I was a blur album, I'd apparently be leisure, which surprised me - I figured I was either the self-titled one or, in a cranky mood, 13. but shows what I know.

no cntrl button, no copy & paste.

I'm in one of those moods where I love everyone collides with I hate everything and while neither, obviously, is true, I don't know whether to smile or frown and I think my face is twitching as a result.

all these things at the tips of my fingers and nothing to say.

nothing nothing nothing.

I am not sure if staying in the hostel or getting out is better for my sanity.

really. I'm not.

I am funny colored and short-haired and feeling more and less like myself and I wish I could get on IM when the best friend is on and I'm glad for work but I'm not writing at all and, oh, I should just shut up.

should.

doesn't mean I ever do.

there was something else on my mind but I've lost it now. I keep reaching for words and they aren't there and it's more than a little bit disconcerting.

maybe I'll make more sense tomorrow.

(I have a distinct feeling I may have said that before.)

ps. when it seems like a small proportion of one's homefolk remembered, thanks are due for a birthday link, methinks. which is not to belittle those who emailed! not at all! but you can't link an email, y'know?