......................eh.......................

September 5th and the weather is grey. Grey is a good way to describe it. There is a cat sitting on my lap as I type this and I feel like my guts are made of plasticine - is that how you spell it? At times I want to open the second story window of my office and puke out of it. At times I want to run out into the middle of the street and tell everyone that they are all liars. At times I want to get an RPG and clear out the houses across the street from me just to change the view. I need to cover myself up; I need to get underneath something and feel warm and dark. If my mother was still alive I would try and crawl back into her womb. Fucking stupidity, all of it is just stupid; including me. I am such a fucking narcissist. It's nauseating.