this sanity will be the death of me

ok, I ask "Does that make sense?" a whole lot more that is strictly necessary. But it is only because I really and truly don't understand what constitutes something being rational and sane as opposed to what makes something pure, unadultered insanity. Decisions I make, fantasies I have, my reasons for doing what I do....I'm never sure if they are products of a properly functioning mind or if I'm doing all this because I have a brain that is living slightly in an alternate universe where being sane doesn't exist. I have a sneaking suspicion it is the latter, though it does confuse me quite a bit.

Does that make sense? hahaha.

I don't think it does. but whatever, I don't mind being a loon of the first water. Except that I do. sometimes.

now, if you're still reading, and I haven't lost you (I've lost myself, but honestly, whatelse is new?), I'd first like to wonder at why you started reading in the firstplace, and I would secondly like to change the subject.

all my studying paid off I think.
what studying?
the non-existant studying I did.
I actually fell asleep.
and then I woke up at 5 in the morning and decided I needed more sleep.
Awful ainit?

o well. I went into my exam and I did a marathon of writing. my hand bloody hurts now. I think I sprained it somewhere between writing about Louis XIV and babbling about the significance of the Reformation. Louis was a twat. but a very Absolutist twat with a very large, very ultra-cool-with-knobs house. I've been there....and it was tres malade, as the French would say, if they were trying to be American but still refined. hahaha. I amuse myself toooo much.

i'm also terribly sorry about my impromtu little rant about Canadian politics. But it is so fun to complain about thems peoples in parliament because, the beauty of this country is that it doesn't matter what they do, it will always be a fuck up to someone.

.....

so this girl I need to apologize to, she's got a blog. and ya...I'm not sure why I said that, I'm just thinking onto my keyboard. like Mozart. except not. right, so I'm actually the absolute worst at opening up to people. I'm worse than anybody you'll meet. Ever. I don't take pride in that by any means. It makes it really difficult to talk to people about anything real. Unless I'm drunk. get me liquored up and I'll tell you anything. I'll do the things that inhibitions prohibit me from doing regularly.

ok. that's all I've got. but not really, my hand is just tired and sprained.