Second to none

I don’t know what the title means. Just some random title I guess.

I was thinking about painting my nails black or a seemingly dark colour that’ll look black from far. But it’s 12.44am now and I’m supposed to wake up around 6.15am. Ah fuck. I would hate to wake up to a horrible-looking nail polish in the morning after having it¬†repeatedly bed sheet-raped during my sleep.

There, I said it. I even made a term for it. I’m not sure whether it’s something I should pride over or not. Okay whatever. I am proud and I am going capslock it to show my pride!!

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED SHEEEEEEEEET RAPEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

I’m so depressing.

I was really happy and chirpy last Wednesday. I don’t know why. I was saying, “Good morning!” to people, in a rather high-pitched voice and people just noticed. “You’re all hyper today”. I’m insulted. I’m hyper every day. Just because I don’t say good morning in a high-pitched voice every day does not mean that I’m not hyper, or remotely hyper.

Never mind.

I’ve been thinking a lot about death really. About what it feels like and where you would go right after. It’s a pretty insane thought, but it’s not an unusual one I guess. People think about these things once in a while. Curiousity comes up, but nobody really talks about it to other people fearing that it would jinx it or something. I don’t know. I guess?

And I’ve been thinking about how many people think that they’re special. I know I do. Sometimes. All the time. I don’t know. I think about it before I sleep. I think about a lot of things before I sleep.

And I don’t count sheep before I sleep. Those are useless. I just close my eyes and hope I’ll wake up the next morning. On time this time.

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Sprinkle me

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