I had something poetic in mind but I'm so effing tired I can't hold onto it long enough to paste its wriggling mass onto paper. I need to start reading again. It would boost my... whatever it is.

It would figure that my muse would be a bookworm. What a nerd.

And it became apparent to me today that I pour nothing but toxic waste into my body at all times and then run it into the ground by neverever sleeping. Dammit. I'm normal.

ink :: graphite