I slept way too much today!!

I haven't done this in awhile. Sleeping through the itchy skin that winter leaves me, not just from the cold, but the hunger, the insatiable itch at the core of the core of the core less, the colorless, immovable, everywhere but here, can't reach it because its permeating the very body you itch in and that which you don't live in. If you lose interest when you are trying to find interest, what do you do? Sleep. Sleep is the quieting of the persistent nagging you create in your mind to alarm when you become stationary and unimaginable.

I'm almost 27, and I've been told that means I'm actually 30. So, I guess I can be 30 for 3 years before I'm actually 30 to prep for it. I forgot what I wanted to write on here, but I know that I have been wanting to write on here, maybe thats it. Maybe I just want to click clack the shiny keys over and over. I used to doodle all over my notes in school without really pickingup my pen for a break just kept swirling and coloring in swirls until I had created a brail of swirls-- lots of nervous texture there. Maybe just click clacking is what I do now, instead, filling up internet space with nervous typing around the real content thats still so stationary, like the stationary that sits in the box all pretty without any use, but what I mean here is the literal standing still waiting for the words to come out on stage. Maybe the words are waiting for that light bulb upstairs to turn on -- that's the que.