No longer a draft.

I'm sitting on my computer, iluminated only by the bright white background of the posting page of this very blog. It's bright enough to emit a light that makes my face, especially my eyes, visable in the mirror to my right.
Even when I look into the mirror I feel like its all pretend.
Like I'm looking for something that really isn't there. And what should be there is completely drained, leaving only an indifferent feeling that bounces from my left ear to my right and down into my heart, lungs, and stomach.

I stayed in. Currently despising the buzz in my head. I think too much and not enough. I'm a people person, no doubt about it, but there's never been more of an urge to escape. I want to sit. I want to paint. I want to organize. I want to nest. I want to prioritize, philosophize.