there is a light and it never goes out.

I don't know what to write but every once in a while I just get in a mood where I really just want to type. I'm worn out and my mind isn't wandering anywhere besides the now. Which is pretty exciting in how mundane it can be. I want to talk to someone, stay up all night sitting and just talking right now. I'm in the mood for conversation and interaction and human. Weird.

I don't want to be sentences but I can be bullet points. Bullet-points. I don't know where that originates from.

• I have my little star lamp on and I'm listening to This Time, This Year, it's almost over and for some reason I really like this song. 
• The way I lie down on my bed always causes where my shoulder and collarbone on the left side to ache slightly. Not enough to the point where it is unbearable but eventually I have to shift and if I don't I lose some feeling in my arm. 
• I'm a little bit groggy and a little bit grumpy and I probably don't have any food in my tummy- - 
• Booop. I just figured out in the process of making these lines that I can do the bullet points thing. It's not like I didn't notice all the buttons and options for the screen post before but I just never used them or cared to experiment really, just out of them being pretty unnecessary for this sort of thing the way I do?
• I can imagine being an old lady because of the way my hands feel sometimes- like they're not even attached to my body. Cold and calloused and not mine. That's how I imagine growing old. I don't want to be old, really, I'm horrified of the idea of being trapped in my body. This is now just reminding me of a philosopher, and although this has been one of my fears for a while, I haven't really touched on it in a while and with the new things I've learned about. . oh. Wow. Self-revelation that no one else will understand.
• I feel really lifted. Annie. I think I have this image of a really amazing person in my head, that's her name. I was thinking about her on the ride home and how she's completely fictional. I had a good grasp of her, falling asleep watching the headlights flick by. But now she's gone, deeper I guess. 
• Sometimes I wish my eyes were brown because of the song Brown Brown Brown by Paul Baribeau. I wish my hair was brown sometimes too because of his other songs. I really, really adore him. 
• I wish I had somewhere to go right now, I feel cooped up inside myself- I just want to see people and places and lights right now. Strangers. Big snowflakes. Streetlights. And frozen water. 
• I can't remember her name, the girl in my story from last year. Did she even have one? I can't remember. I can't remember. I want to continue it on- expand it, more views, more depth, reviserepeat. I put part of myself in that story, a part that I can never get back. I want to see it again. 
• I can't find my retainer and that fact is irritating me. 
• I think it's a miracle just to be breathing. 
• I'm so inspired right now and I know this feeling and I don't like it because I'm getting too worked up with no real outlet right now. I need to calm down. I need to calm myself down. 
• Breathe. Out- in. Out- in.
• Directions for living? Just a reminder, fyi, sketch in a datebook. you know. the usual, with hashbrowns and orange juice- no pulp. 

if god is an astronaut, if this world is beyond shapes and lines.