the good thing is being able to feel like you don't belong, like you're not fitting in, not entirely, but not feeling bad about it either. not caring. but not in a way that's like, I don't care. more like a way of, meh, it's different, not good or bad. not feeling less or more. just different. just shifting a little. i wrote in my journal after that night, after 2 woodchucks and x amount of yuengling but before the migraine of dehydration the next day, i wrote (in awful handwriting), "why can't i have a pen attached to my head so i don't have to make my hands and eyes work for this? i'm calculating how many hours i've been awake, how much beer i've drank, what i've done all day, why i feel apathetic but why i care. why do i care? what do i care about? do i care, or is it just something to entertain me? do we do everything out of the desire to rid ourselves of boredom? ... what is this all? what is this? fuck wtf is this??"
i'm getting close to being done with all this christmas shopping, and i almost can't stop. i want to buy a million things for everyone. no 2 presents isnt enough, must have 3, 4, 5. i just want to buy everything for everyone and make eveyrone happy. that's all.