This is not who I am.

Quit smoking, stop drinking coffee and calm the fuck down.

It was an orange car. We used to call it "the pumpkin." I have mixed feelings about this memory.

I want to buy a fake electronic cigarette. I will quit smoking by December. Birthday present to myself: sweet heart rate.

Bob Judge

is my guardian angel. How does he know? Magical!

Numb

Twice in a year.

Oh well.

I just want to buy ice skates.

Intensity!

Stopped breathing, almost bled to death, and had a heart mumur.

Everyone made it out alive! Good times. Now, I will eat a pretzel and breathe.

What the?

"Go lay in bed. And think about what you want."

Bring it to a rolling boil, then let it simmer.

It's soup* time, baby!

(see also: stew and chili)

Feels like something's missing. But, I can't put my finger on it.

Seems like I only write things when I'm in a gloomy mood. Oh well.