this thing on the inside of my mouth.

So, for the hour or so that I've been awake, I've been relentlessly tonguing this... bubble on the inside of my mouth. And it hurt, but it hurt in that way that I kind of like the way it hurt, but now its just starting to fucking hurt regular and it sucks.

I think this lesion is symptomatic of my preoccupation with tearing up the insides of my mouth. I know that several websites I've come across consider "mouth biting" to be self-harm but c'mon. It's like biting your fingernails but a bit bloodier. It's still tremendously gross and I'm not sure why it's so gratifying, but I sincerely consider it to be one of the finest pleasures life could ever offer. Some people must be able to relate to this. Like ripping off the skin around your nails or cracking your knuckles or pulling off scabs - things that are nasty but super fun! I would not say, however, that mouth biting rivals the sobriety of more traditional forms of self mutilation but at the same time, I sometimes wind up with a mouth full of blood. And that's kind of weird.

This is really not what I meant to write, but

the weather is awful
i am still lackadaisically seeking employment
and
my sleeping schedule has returned, regrettably, to vampire mode which puts me in a trance from the hours of 4 to 6, listlessly wondering if there were 15 minutes of wonderful daytime sunshine that are now gone forever.

But on a brighter note. Today is MLK day. And GOLDEN GLOBE DAY. What are the chances?

Here We Go Again.

Because I am vastly insecure about still being the type of person who will openly display their feelings on the internet, I have to preface this virgin entry with the following:

I am so tired of not writing. I've written my entire life. I can't, for the life of me, conceive of any stories/poems/essays/eulogies, etc. and haven't been able to in awhile. But, in times of dire need, I can always manage to write about....you guessed it: MY FEELINGS. While I recognize that I could and should do this privately, I am thirsty to put words together and nothing else is coming. I enjoy writing for an audience and for whatever annoying reason, the quality of my writing when pen is put to actual paper somehow seems to decrease. I think it's because I press too hard and make my hand ache.

If anyone actually begins to follow this (and I'm sure I will force at least one of my friends to read it) I'd also like to apologize for the fact that I have no desire or skill insofar as posting music, links, pictures, or information beyond my own limited horizons, i.e. my opinions.

I guess it would be nice actually, to force my music on people outside of a car, so maybe I should try and do that, after all.

I've written so little and I'm already exhausted! It's alright - soon I will be posting long winded prose poems about my search for god and hours worth of self analysis that will ultimately only be of use to myself and my bloodthirsty need to become The Most Self-Aware-But-Unusually Prone-To-Bad-Behavior-Anyways 23-year-old girl in the world! And my quest for enlightenment, which I assure you, is VERY, VERY real. Here's to the future!