what am I, alive?

[one hundred, seventy-two]

I remember wrting a lot that I feel like I'm taking my life not for granted, but some days I feel like I'm dead inside. Is that a terrible thing to say about myself? I feel like I'm running in place, like it is continuously the start of the race, the tension right before the "go" gunshot and it goes off, and then I'm stuck. I'm stuck.

I feel that everything is the same. Have you ever seen the movie Pleasantville? Where everything's in black and white. I feel like there are moments in my life where there's colour, there's technicolour, psychadellic colour things that I never, ever want to lose, and then there's these moments where I just could go on and on and never realise that I'm not living in colour. There could be an occaisional brown, but brown isn't the prettiest.

I have this weird craving for fried chicken, I think I watch too much Sex and the City. I love that show, because they get stuck, and they get hurt, and they aren't perfect, and they still have such optimism. I gots the positivity man. I can't wait for September, you know why? Because there are things that I can experience there without even trying where here I have to make plans and work my ass off. Let's do some easy stuff together.

I have a lot of things on my mind. I would like to talk them out with someone. This is me calling out. Please. I need something different.

yours truly,

Jess :]