ending

never ending pile of mess that i have absolutely no control over. like a bog of bog that i can't get my stupid self out of. i don't want to see you behind me. i don't want you to let go of my hands. don't think i have any control because i don't. i just love you. my hands are sweating, no my palms. my tongue is numb. there's a song, please don't. this should be more continuous. if i could type a little better on these macs it would be a lot easier. why do i have so much more trouble typing with these keys then any other? they are as open and ready to what i'm going to use them to write. my neck is too naked. i feel naked. get out from behind me. i can't even focus. you really can't get creative at school, you feel to watched and judged. this is not good.
sickness, i feel so sick. i got sick, what made me sick? a headache.