K, so things don't always work out as according to plan. I'm aware of this much already. The funniest thing is, though, that sometimes nothing will ever go according to plan at all.


     I took a twenty minute nap, it was enough to calm my stomach to the point of being able to drink some vodka and listen to kevin mix with his new controller he's been so excited about. It's only currently serving as a reminder that I'm doing absolutely nothing with my time at all. Productive or not, I'm simply doing nothing. Drink in hand, I sit and think about all sorts of things I'd really never have to talk about again. But sometimes I talk about them anyway. Like the people that I'm jealous of, and the completely ridiculous reasons why I feel that way. As if I'm aware of every reason why things never work out as I dreamed they would, but for some reason... Skin on skin is just more of a promise than you ever like for it to be. And there's this scent, this scent I can't describe exactly what it smells like. But it smells vaguely like the reminding factor that something vivid has faded away.
     Sometimes, when I'm laying down... particularly in situations where I am trying to nap, I feel my veins in my body pulsing through and around bones, muscles, and layers of flesh. It's odd, like feeling a clock move gently when it ticks as you're leaning against it. Leaning more against a wall, wishing the moments would fleet more quickly so you wouldn't be subjected to such awkward silence.

      But it's my veins, and I swear I feel them. They beat off-time in comparison to my heart it seems, or at least off time in comparison to how I feel my heart beating in my chest. Most of the time, if I think about it too much, it starts to really depress me in several ways I find it practically impossible to describe. But it's a very frightening sensation; oh the things I could have done with this beautiful skin and strong bones in a life time. And yet I feel them malfunctioning as I try to rest. So I turn, pretend there's no pressure on my calves and swallow the desperate sighs I wish I could gasp into infinity, searching always for an answer. Shrugging off, always, all possibilities.