Sometimes, I can’t deal with existing. I don’t feel comfortable in the space I am in, both the actual room, and my body, and I suppose by some weird, huge extension, the planet. I don’t fit under my own skin, and I don’t know what to do with myself not just in the grand plan of my life, but actually, at this very minute I don’t know if I should or want to get up and take a shower, get into bed, go to sleep, write something, read a book, drink some water. Everything feels just a little bit off.