ejaculate, and disperse

Live a tragic life or choose to die a tragic death.

Leave only pieces of your heart, in case you need to find your way back. Or your way out. Never the whole.

I'll deal with it. On my own. Just like those group class projects that you get so anxious about that you willingly step up and say you'll handle it. That way, even if you screw up big time, you know it's all you. And you get to decide if you want to clean up the mess too. It's good that way, I guess.

And then there's always that little bugger called Hope.

Late for the last first day of school. How boring.

I don't like it when I talk too much. I feel like slapping myself. Sigh.

I'm tired.  

"As the skirt sashayed with my hips."

That was funny.

Several friends have expressed dissatisfaction over my tendency to remain invisible when I'm online.

Sigh. There are things we like, don't we.  

I go from reading blood composition to vampire folklore. Distractions, distractions.

Potential. One big word to describe what we possess and one big word to describe what we almost never make use of.

Self-expression wants a piece of this too but is too shy. Afraid, to be exact. What's precise and straightforward sometimes just cannot be explained in that fashion.

I think I'll think some more. 

I, sense this terrible preoccupation sinking in.
Suddenly there isn't excitement. Suddenly it seems a little overwhelming.

Frowning comes easily to me. It's a bad, bad habit but it feels very natural. And they always tell you to be yourself, don't they.

I have number bases to convert. Sigh. 

Time to make selfish decisions. Time to stop handling this with care.

Maybe when I think about it in a day or two, I'd wish I hadn't. But I'm not sure I have that much time.  

Auctioning what was never really mine. It was never really mine anyway.  

It's a little strange and very easy to overlook. But when you do think about it, it makes you think even more about reasons for changes. Even for a second or two.
How easy it is to look at a familiar face and pretend it is not. Perhaps familiarity isn't always a good thing.  

Well, that wasn't too long eh?

I hate eating when I'm not hungry. Such oppression.