[three hundred, thirty-one]
believably unbearable living in a surefire existence, it'd be reassuring to know the extension of lightyears, the measurement of forever, and the drastic drop below. what to expect, really, that is what we want to know. the atmosphere clearly doesn't allow room to grow, or experience, just a place to live out the workings that pre-determine our existence, our fate, but we define those through our livings. why can't the rain stop pelting and the work stop piling so that our heads can't keep above water.
I'm hungry, and I'm tired, and I'm uncomfortable and not feeling well. I think I have a headache and my ankle still hurts a lot. I overplanned this week I didn't even give myself a break... Just, too much, too much. I don't even have school work to do, just other things, my life is a single shelf full of books held together by two sturdy bookends, and the books are held so tightly together whenever I try toto take something off it won't budge, it's too important to fall, so I stand underneath that bookshelf and hold it above my head, but there's too many books I'm going to drop it.
I just fell asleep for an hour... I can't take naps on regular days, and I had a full night of sleep last night. If this doesn't mean I'm just physically and mentally exhausted I don't know what does. I feel sick.
Jess :
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