Something’s Got a Hold of Me.

Listening to Dashboard Confessional’s Don’t Wait is appropriate. I feel afraid. The paranoia in The Final Destination must have rubbed off of me, as my throat feels constricted and all my senses are alert.

A memory did this. A memory of a friend’s progress in something, which only reminded me of my own… lack of progress.

I can’t do this. I can’t sit around, reading books and watching TV shows. I can’t spend my day doing errands and burning time at the mall. It’s wrong; it’s unwise. What is wrong with me? Someone help me understand.

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So you've stumbled upon my blog. There's nothing special here unless you're into learning about my twisted mind.

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