There's no longer a person who'd care or even just pretend to care about all the random shit that I love to talk about or do. No longer anyone who would be next to me and just get me when I'm in my own world. Yet, if this very person were to exist, I might find the other reasons to be dissatisfied. I have a knack for fashioning my own loneliness and I am lonely as hell.

I've been killing time, mostly. What should we do to consider as "living", actually? Wanderlust aside, travelling seems to be the only means of "living" nowadays. Are there even anymore new experiences that we can squeeze out from here? Wait, what else does "living" constitute of other than new experiences? Are new experiences even considered "living"? I should? Shut up? I know? Right?

I should've gone to find Mel, but I passed on a night out with an attempt at prioritizing and being responsible SHEESH who am I kidding. But honestly, I'm just going to end up watching Community all night and exercising my thumb on Flipboard in class tomorrow. Flipboard is my favouritest app, EVER. I thought it'd be Instagram, until I realized it only served to remind me how bloody uninteresting my everyday life was. Oh and I've been Facebook-free for a while now. Funny how much time I used to spend on that crap when I can very well go on without it.

I repeated this to myself a 100 times during my run today, at one point it got louder and I'm sure I sounded cray cray then with the lines broken up by my hard panting.

WHEN YOU WANT TO SUCCEED AS BAD AS YOU WANT TO BREATHE, THEN YOU'LL BE SUCCESSFUL.