I'm Fucking Tired

The air of coldness. The lack of being able to sleep. The lack of being able to stay awake. It's a fight, alright. The uncertainty that goes through one's mind is infinite. The want, the feel of just cursing people out. The lack of tolerance. Decreasing with every moment as you're floating through your own mind. There is the feeling of not being in control of one's body. What's happening? You don't want to feel like such a bitch, but you kind of are one. What the fuck? Seriously. Why is this happening? The feeling of just spewing out nonsense. The feeling of everything being shifted. The want to just fall asleep on a cloud, unaware of what's happening in the world. There are expectations of doing things. Shut the fuck up. I'm sorry. What am I supposed to do? Is it me being intolerant, or is it the drugs talking? Is it drugs? What is it?
Man, what's happening? Well, I know what's happening and right now, it's cold as shit. I'm cold. I have class tomorrow, well, later today. What am I going to do? Music is the shit. In a good way. You know.
There's the inability of being able to portray what's really going on because you're mind is sort of just floating in a vast openness, but at the same time, it's racing. Or is it? I don't really know what's happening. I just know that I'm tired as fuck. I want to sleep, I want to walk around in the cold. I need to get work done. *sigh* I don't know what's happening. It's cold. I'm woozy. I don't know what I'm doing.
My head is spinning out of control. It's not like anything much really happened. So many thoughts in my head, none being able to be voiced. My soft-spoken voice, trying with such an effort to get the words out of my mouth. What? I don't even know what I said. I don't know what you heard. I cannot fathom what is coming out of my mouth, what is going on in my mind. There's so much more than what's being said verbally. I don't mean to sound so mean, but I'm fucking tired, man. It's sort of like venting, but not because I can't get it out. "It" being the words from my mouth. You should probably know by now that I get cranky when I can't sleep. Seriously. Maybe that's why I'm such a bitch. I just want to sleep, man. Maybe you shouldn't have come. Maybe I should be doing things. Time is passing by so slowly. Music's pretty great. I still need to get through the day and I have no idea how that's going to work out.
So many things are piling in my mind, in my head, in my thoughts. They're interweaving, but at the same time, I know what I'm thinking, but at the same time, I'm out of my mind. I'm drifting in and out of consciousness, or at least trying to. What can I say? I'm so tired. I can't help it, except now I'm just typing because I really don't know what to do. I think I might want to go for a walk. If I don't sleep soon, I'm just going to be dead for the day, but I kind of expected that to happen. Maybe it's fine, maybe it's not. I really don't have much planned for the day.
Maybe it's misdirected anger. I wanted to talk to a friend earlier today, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm really bad at confrontation. I am pretty horrible at it. I'm still tired, but now, I'm not even sure what my eyes are doing. It's cold. My legs are getting numb. My eyes are tired, but they shall not close. I don't really know. I'm sitting on the floor, cross-legged, but it's fine. I guess. I really just want to sleep, but I suppose I might not because I'd be a bad host. I'm a pretty horrible roommate though too. I don't ask anymore. I wonder what she thinks of me. Maybe I'm shaking. Maybe my feet are getting numb (they're definitely getting numb). Type-type-typing away though. I cannot do anything. But, I guess at least I'm typing. Talking. I like that. I like to talk. I cannot say things verbally anyway much. Maybe I'll ask my friend to go on a walk. I feel bad. Maybe. Hopefully the weekend is good. I need sleep. But whatever I guess. There's that tinge of guilt and the tinge of resentment because I really want to sleep, but I shouldn't. *sigh* I can't help it, I'm sorry. I don't mean it, but also, I might just be pulling stuff from my ass. Maybe I do mean it, but I don't want to come off so coarse, but it does anyway. I'm not really a good person, but whatever. I guess. I really can't feel my feet right now. I don't know what's happening. Well, let's see. The Morning Sun by Gashcat is playing at this moment. Not sure how I feel about that. It's not even the version that I enjoy. But it's okay because it's a good song.
I'm so, so, so tired. I really don't know what to do. I'm totally going to feel like shit later. I just know it. So much for being happy. I was happy. Now it feels just so far off. Like something that's so unobtainable now. But, I do want that feeling again. Maybe the drugs are just throwing me off. There's so much going on, but at the same time, nothing is really going on, but I can't help it. It's still cold. Hm, now Waldeck is playing. Tired. Tired. Tired.... That slant. There's a slant on things. There's a feel of... is it what surreal feels like? Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I'm a bit hungry. My friend was annoying me, but I feel like that's my fault. There's just the sense of inconsiderateness that gets to me. I'm a bad roommate, and I can't help it. Or maybe that's my excuse. I always come up with excuses. But, I can't help it. It's what I do. I don't like taking the blame for things, so I push it onto other people. Hmm... Not sure what to do now. Time's passing by so slowly. I was just out of it on my bed, but now, I'm like: ehhh.... I still want to sleep, forreals, but I don't know. I guess we'll see what happens. Ugh. Ugh. I don't know how I feel. Just... spacey I guess is a good way to put it. Maybe. Tired. I wanted to talk to so many people, but that might now have worked out, especially because I felt like I had no control over anything. Ugh. This song is good (if you hadn't noticed, my mind is constantly switching). Hmmm.. Interesting musics. I think I made some pretty good choices.
Ughhh.... The weekend could not come sooner.
Anyways, I think I'll try to do some actual work now, or something. Maybe I need to be under the influence of things such as drugs to write blogs nowadays, but anyways, sorry. I should get going for now. *rantandrave-rantandrave*