At my very core, I am sad. Though I have days in which I don't feel sad at all, and even days that I might not remember what sad even means, in my quiet moments and my time to myself, I feel it. Sometimes I feel it pulling at the edge of my mind, but I shrug it off. Sometimes it pulls hard, and this is why I have a habit. It pulls hard most of the time now. Sometimes it finds me in my dreams and I carry it with me all day. It's like a warm, comfortable blanket made of small barbs that I drape around myself. Sometimes its disheartening to think that at my zenith of existence, in that moment in which I am the most happy that I will ever be, I will inevitably find myself back, warming at the fire of my inner despair. I have felt like this for as long as I can remember.

Halfway done with a paper that's due on Tuesday. It's a good bit more done than I am usually at this juncture. And I only have German class tomorrow, so I have most of the day before work to finish off the rest. The topic is fairly easy. I'm more concerned with the final I have on Thursday. Been trying to take breaks in writing the paper to create a few flashcards and peck out some ideas for that final essay. The following week will be the worst, with a final Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday.

Making this all seem a bit better is the pleasant soreness from the concert on Saturday. Ran into a friend of my ex whom I always thought was beautiful and tried not to fawn over him. My neck is sore from headbanging, which I somehow thought was both appropriate and a good idea. Stood in front of the speakers, so my ears are ringing. My legs are sore from jumping, and I don't regret a moment. The bands all put forth magnificent offerings, with even both openers being surprisingly quality. Speaking of which, I'm going to see if I can find their music online.

I can't wait until finals are just over.

Hook Suspension.

I couldn't find the exact screenshot that started my morbid fascination with the practice, but it was taken from  the movie The Cell that came out in the 90s. When the tortured serial killer lifted himself into suspension, he looked peaceful. It soothed the mortally wounded soul, and gave it respite. Those I've spoken to who have done it always waxed poetic about it. This is something I'll want to do soon. Until I can, I'll just look at it on the internet a lot.

Though, for my skin's sake, I ought to lose some weight first. 

Mmmmmmmmmmm. Nicotine buzz from the cigarette I wasn't supposed to have.

But as Tom Waits said to Iggy Pop:  "You know, the beauty of quitting is, now that I've quit… I can have one. Because I've quit. I mean, it's just like jewelry."

I've always thought Jared Leto was rather striking. But he's gone and lost a lot of weight and shaved off his eyebrows for a movie he's in I believe. 

I don't care why. He pretty. He's really pretty.