So I keep finding kethcup packets in my purse. No matter how many times I clean it out. They are definitely regenerating in there.
It bothers me that something somebody said to me last night didn't bother me, and yet I have been acting a little bit like it did. Maybe I was bothered by it and didn't know it? I really do think that I just found it pretty hilarious, slash appalling on their accounts. People, in general, are very oversensitive. I think maybe everybody is, but we are in tune with it on different levels. Some people, like the ones approaching me last night, are very in tune with their oversensitivity and act on it - Whether it's approaching somebody and causing an awkward scene, or just crying a hell of a lot. Then there's people like me who aren't in tune with their sensitivity - Often come off as brash in some situations, I guess - And take their oversensitivity as something else and so, just, yell about stuff a lot. I don't know - I had a bold idea, but I don't know where it went.
I'm a mess. Somewhat. Quite a bit. I really don't know why I can't pull the guitar out of my hands. It's beginning to creep me out.
And this is bad: I want to write. I really want to write, and I'm in that writing mode where if I did write, it would be fucking brilliant. But I have the emotion I need to emote, but none of the other necesary elements like, well, you know, a story or characters or words of any sort. The only words I can come up with are random words, often foods. You can't very well make a play where people just speak random words. No, I'm sorry, that's not brilliant, that's just daft.
Ah, I wish it was Spring. My entire life is feeling inbetweenish again. It's time to be somewhere - On a level. Levelevelevel.
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