my inner crazy is revealing itself. slowly. one. two. three. fucking celebration. i really would love a bottle of wine. it's one a.m (what is up with my new fixation with time?), and i am afraid to swallow a pill. it gives me heart burn. i'll compromise with you (although you're tiny and crushable and snortable). i can handle the emotional turbulence(i think? at this point does it even matter?) but fucking with my digestive system was not part of the deal! and i really really ache for sleep. in case you cannot tell, i am in great need. one. two. three.