There's something so undeniably anticlimactic about turning nineteen years old.
Insomnia has hit, hard. I'm too lazy to read or watch any more online instant streaming television shows anymore. I begin to question the presence of the TV in our daily lives. It used to harbor the national news and all forms of entertainment for the world, but isn't that job given to the Internet now?
I understand only now that this is a sadly obvious realization and blame 2 AM for my stupidity. Late nights are the worst when you have no one to spend them with. I cannot, for the life of me, force myself to sleep because my circadian rhythm is completely out of line.
Most people I know tend to stop me from going on any further when they hear something I say that sounds so fucking profound that it doesn't even have any meaning. For instance, we'd just be sitting around and I'd look at a pillow and say, "those things sure are comfortable, I mean otherwise what would you rest your head on at night?" And then the weird stares and inward questioning as to why they're even friends with this person in the first place begin. I honestly doubt I can find someone willing to spend the rest of their time on this planet with me, my nuances are too difficult to keep track of, in all honesty.
I don't think I'll spend this birthday doing too much. I don't like big things for me, never did. I just enjoy it when others appreciate my company without the hoopla and pizzazz of a grand party. Not a giant fan of cake, either.
I really fucking miss the city. I hope I can visit soon.
