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Sweet, sweet brain death

your face


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your face
I stopped talking again.
I guess I felt like if I couldn't even be bothered to talk to my real friends in real lufe, it's no use screaming into the void. And if I'm just going to be talking to myself, there's no use for the vanity of the internet.

But there is some accountability here, I guess.
And maybe I can coax some people I actually know into posting about their lives.

For me, nothing much has changed in a couple months. Or maybe it has.

I spent tonight at home, doing laundry and organizing my jewelry, eating trader joe's soy ice cream with crunchy almond butter and maple syrup while drinking a late-harvest wine, watching a cheesey chick flick from the 90s. Time well spent, I say.
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