urgh.

premise 1. sometimes, i presume. which, in case you've never noticed or never actually done it, is never a good thing to do. whether it's a fact or a position of stability, you will always, always end up looking stupid.

premise 2. i think i have stopped reading novels altogether. just nonfiction, poetry, and penny-dreadfuls that i return when i'm finished in two days anyway. which, i realize, is rather dishonest. lately, i have been. but does this mean that i have no creativity left? i don't make anything anymore, don't do anything. at all.....

premise 3. i know, beyond any shadow of doubt, that i have been too wrapped up in myself for months upon months to be a good friend.

premise 4. i do things like this. instead of trying to do something good, something positive, i swap between encouraging d. to a good first day back at school and writing about what a wretched person i am.

and so, it remains to be concluded that i need a swift kick in the ass, for i am becoming quite the fuckhead.

q.e.d.

really, woman, the least you could do is get up and make yourself feel a little better. or finish alphabetizing your books. ass.