Why do we need to talk about ourselves when no one really gives a second crap? It's really funny because seriously not one person can look beyond one's existence to see that we are a huge paradox waiting to confuse time and space, tricking ourselves into thinking that we matter. When we don't. We're like zombies, going through this routine and I wish that a bomb would just drop on us sometimes. And yeah. I feel sucky that I am like a zombie. More specifically, a zombie stuck in bed because that zombie is lazy, lazy, lazy and lethargic as possible, a zombie who needs to find a heart and eat it so that she can maybe see beyond wants and go for