Tired. Nervous. Will laugh at any joke, however lame it is. Slightly drunk, too, for some reason. Should get sleep. Nightmares preventing sleep. Dreaming of where I was last year exactly. Fuck you too, memory. Why do you have to bee so damn precise? Nightmares help writing. Should write more.
Life – can be shitty sometimes, but so fucking worth it.
I never thought I’d write this someday, but love helps. A lot.
goodnight to y’all