Recurring Dream.

i have a really sore neck right now. i think it's because i've been tilting it or something. i don't know.

the sky is black and it's only 6:50 pm. daylight saving confuses me.

i smell cheese. grilled cheese.

the person who i care for intensely has no idea. at least i don't think he does. i have an aching desire to tell him how i feel...even though he may freak out...even though...oh i don't know...chill out sophie.

i think i spend too much time thinking.

i wish i could overcome my doubts and worries (some of the stupid ones) but i suppose we all have our preoccupations and mine just happen to be of the irritating kind.

in with gothic literature, out with twilight. no one can beat mary shelley/bram stoker/horace walpole/i'm sure there are many others.

i want to read the castle of otranto by horace walpole. i haven't read much gothic literature but really want to try it.

there is a moth outside my window

it's gone now.

it's strange to think that now as the day is ending for me it is starting for someone else.

death ends life, not relationships - mitch albom.