It’s bad enough that I’ve had nothing random to tweet the past 8 days, but I haven’t been horny either. Now I can’t myself off. This a fucking nightmare. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I was happier when I was in pain. At least I felt something, whether it be pain, fear, frustration, anger, delusion, randomness… Anything would be better than not feeling. I feel nothing. Ten days of absolutely zero personality. I’ve never not enjoyed my own company. Until now.

I’ve cried a lot of tears for the people of Twitter. I wish I could find words as genuine as my emotions, but I’ve never been able to express myself through words. Instead, I say nothing. I cry for them quietly from a distance.

If my tears were words, they’d tell a beautiful story.

Adding to the list of ridiculously stupid shit I’ve done on Ambien: signing up on tumblr. It was somewhere around 3 AM and I don’t remember it at all.  There is no possible way I would ever choose “princessnonsequitur” as my name.  First of all, I have to look up how to spell the word EVERY time I need to write it. And secondly, I have no idea what it means. I had gotten a text from my friend the day before, “LOL…. Princess non sequitur!” So… yeah. I’m rolling my eyes because… I don’t know why. Because I can. Thanks again, Ambien.

Less thinking, more doing. The more I think about whether I’m doing this right or wrong, the less likely I am to post something. Maybe in time, I’ll think about what I’m writing.  I’ll reflect, ponder and analyze my feelings. I’ll listen to the truth behind my words. I’ll make a conscious effort to stick to one subject and not veer off into wild, random, never-ending tangents. But not now. It’s safe to say I’ll never proofread anything before I post it. I’ll probably never think before I type it either. And I won’t make sense, but that’s just fine by me.

FUUUCCKKK. I NEED TO RAGE.

My mom is Swiss. I’m American. I have to deal with this shit EVERY day.

Mom: Do you have any wipe out? Me: huff Any what? Mom: (louder & annoyed voice) WIPE. (pause) OUT. Me: (bratty tone) Umm.. Clorox wipes? Mom: (annoyed) NO! WIPE. OUT. (makes a waving motion with her hand.) Me: (irritated) I’m sooo hot! Why are you asking me stupid questions. What are you talking about? Mom: (pissed) you know…. (makes waving motion again) Me: WINDEX??? Mom: What part of (waving motion) don’t you understand? Me: ALL OF IT! Mom: For erasing mistakes. Me: uhhh….. An eraser? Mom: NO! WIPE OUT!!! WHITE paint. Me: PRIMER??? Mom: Did I say premium? (which btw, is how she says ‘primer’.) Me: OMG. Seriously. Learn the language. Learn it! Mom: (grabs a paper with a scribble mistake and shows me) Me: ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?? WHITE-OUT? Mom: Thats what I said. Wipe-out. Me: Bashes face into the wall NO! I do not have any white out. Mom: Why didn’t you just say so?

Surprise, surprise…. I still can’t get the hang of the tumblr. BUT, I have managed to make the background of some page, somewhere, pink! So, Hell Yeah! And that’s, a Pink FTW!

Can we test this bitch, yet!?