caffeinatrix (caffeina) wrote,

  • Music:

guns blazing, buudha buuddhaaa! Bitch betta have my money!

Can't sleep can't sleep can't sleep. Groan.

And yes, I have been trying.

I figured, if i'm going to be semi-conscious and quasi-lucid, I might as well come over here and absorb some more radiation, pay some bills. Something other than laying there staring at the unbelievably bright LED on my stupid cel phone ac adapter and the stupid digits on the stupid clock. Mocking me. I need to get me some benadryl or actifed. Poor man's tranquilizers!

So, I haven't written anything of any substance whatsoever in a long while. I think i'm just too self-conscious lately. I've been too cautious. Why? What the hell? Me? WHaa?

My life is still all drama and fun and hoo-haa, but i'm keeping it close to my chest as if it makes any difference. I have been kind of curling myself into a tight little ball, coiled up, kind of waiting for things to fall in to place. Not in any specific, pre-ordained sense, just, waiting. This house stuff, family stuff, needing to make a future of some sort, money problems... It feels like i'm a fuzzy caterpillar preparing to become -- follow me if you will, in to my huge cliched metaphorical drift -- either a butterfly or a moth. And fuck your hippy ass if you love moths, they're horrible hairy little beasts and they fly in my hair and yuck.

I get whacky when I get insomnia.

I think, um, I think my brain is drifting towards sleep, a little bit, but I have too much on my mind. I worry too much. I should be inspired by the heavily-edited-for-television movie I watched the other night, Risky Business, and say "What the fook" but maybe i'll let that irresponsibility wait until after I install a new kitchen floor for my puny mortal tenants.
    And what the fuck, you LJ-friended bitches?!!?? You never fucking reply to my shit anymore. Don't make me pimp-slap you again, you hear me? XOXOXO

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