When I know I need to write I get this warm feeling in my chest and my body gets tingly...and once I open up this page the feeling is gone and I end up spewing shit that's nowhere close to what I mean to say. I get jumbled and my thoughts go all over the place. I don't understand it.
I have a small batch of gorgeous mutli colored carnations next to me that I bought for myself. A birthday present to myself, as I see those as an impending necessity now that I'm getting older. Satisfaction stops being easy to get from other people now that I'm inching towards "adulthood." How cliche of me.
Busy day tomorrow. Today. 5:24 AM and still no sleep.
