._.

Things are so random. Life is so fuckedup. "Fucked up only because of me".

The whole essence of existence question keeps plaguing me. Why do we exist? Is there a reason?

And somehow, I forget the simplest reason. We exist to justify existence. At least thats how I have been looking at the whole concept. I don't know, its a possibility, isn't it?

Bleh. I should stop writing shit like this.

I feel like I'm turning into some sort of really bored, bitchy person. A class-mate called me a 'nasty stereotype from Mean Girls(the movie)' and I think I may be turning into one. Yay.

And somewhere down the line, things are starting to make no sense at all. Everywhere I look, all I see around me is some kind of weird recurring regurgitated script of something similar to an American Pie movie. Its very freaky. I hate those movies.

And there are things. Things that I can't explain to myself. For no reason that weird, I am sort of ashamed to admit, feeling of loneliness creeps in to me. And then it goes away. Its probably nothing, but nothing is what we think about the most, is it not?

I feel like writing letters, I feel like calling names. I don't know anything that I think about.

Hello World.

The world has changed so much. The loops have turned loopier, the bends have further bent themselves. So many people are dying and yet no one cares even a little. The callousness they posses is extraordinary. The way we have removed that 'feeling' from our conciousness is extraordinary.

Is there a random kind of anger in you? I have rage bottled up in me, I don't know why...

There have been so many things that have metamorphosed into things that are so similar and still not that way.

I feel like sleeping.

There is so much to say and to talk about and I feel incapable of doing so. 

I will sleep. I will sleep.