Dear empty and fucked out girl, we regret to inform you that you suck.

So here I sit, listening to Tiny Dancer on repeat, half-assedly working on a paper. I've been trying to write something to put up here for hours, but everything I write makes me want to punch myself in the boobs then bang my head against a doorknob for being such a pitiable specimen of womanhood. (Always, ALWAYS man obsessed? CAN WE NOT BE FREE OF THIS BULLSHIT??)

I'm tired I guess- the stress of getting ahead on school before a vacation, applying for jobs, applying for studying abroad next year, organizing an anniversary party for my parents, trying to complete a portfolio required for previously mentioned applications.... But honestly? The only thing that comes to mind is this quote:
"Do you suffer when you write? I don't at all. Suffer like a bastard when don't write, or just before, and feel empty and fucked out afterwards. But never feel as good as while writing."

sidenote: I have a big fat crush on Hemingway. What a wonderful, crass, asshole-y beautiful man.