She doesn't really have anything to say, yet she keeps talking.

Hello. Again.
For some reason I seem to be overly chatty these days.

Anyway, I've been working on my annoying essay, which is due 10 January, whole day. Now I'm having a break since my brain just refuses to work any more. I also consumed too much caffeine, apparently, since I spent some minutes lying on the bathroom floor trying not to pass out. You guys remember to hydrate when drinking coffee or tea because caffeine (like alcohol) has a diuretic effect on your system - that is, you need to pee more often. It's not really even that notable if you don't drink some 1,5 litres of tea and half a cup coffee in a row. *cough* Then you get sort of dehydrated, which in my case means feeling dizzy and sweating (Makes no sense, though. Why would my body want to lose even more fluids when I'm already in need of some?)

Okay, but there was something I wanted to talk about today, other than my highly exciting day.
I think it had something to do with love, but I'm talking about love all the time.
You can totally tell when I'm trying to deal with something in my head from the amount of time I use writing utter nonsense about things that are somehow related to it.

You know sometimes I wonder why I have this need to babble about my problems publicly. Do I really just want attention or what? And the most ridiculous thing about having this blog is that even though I've declared absolute disinterest and ignorance towards anyone's opinion on or reaction to the things I discuss, I'm still concerned about stuff that I publish. For example, if I know that someone specific is likely to read what I post, but don't necessarily want them to know what I think or feel about something.. Now, this sounds just idiotic. Let's leave it there.
The point is, why do I do this?
If I don't want someone to know or think about something that's on my mind, why would I then write something about it on my public blog?
That's the question.
And the truth probably is that, on the contrary to the previous statement, I actually do want them to know after all. Basically I believe in being straight and honest - talking about things that are bugging us. I don't think that for example a relationship can fall apart because of something one says out loud. If you've done something classified as wrong, then that's what ruins the thing, not admitting it.
And my point .. .. .. talking about shit, right.
Sometimes I say too much. Or at least I feel like I have. When you've already said literally everything and more it's best to remain quiet. When I feel that I've perhaps said too much I come here or go somewhere else to write some senseless rubbish. Because in my case there's really no limit in terms of analysing a subject. If there happens to be someone inspired to have a conversation on something that's bothering me, I can easily go on for several hours. And I never get anywhere. I just go round and round till I feel even more confused and anxious than at the starting point. Since I'm aware of my bad habit of unintentionally loading whatever burden I'm carrying on other people's shoulders, I try to control myself by venting here instead.
Okay, people can still visit my blog and read the stuff I've posted but that's their own decision and then I don't feel as bad as I would if I'd just called someone in the middle of the night to get some sympathy.

I'm definitely too tired to do this.

You know when you miss someone or just want to be with them, hear their voice, see them or anything, but you don't do anything about it because you feel that contacting them would somehow disturb their peace or whatever? Like even reminding them of your existence with a text or an email would be too intrusive. Feeling of inferiority is one of my specialities.

And have you ever hurt inside at such density that you've had to bite your knuckles or sink your nails in your wrists or tighten your stomach muscles rock hard to keep from screaming?

And how about been woken up in the middle of a remarkably lovely dream and feeling like shit because your real life is light years away from that scenario to actually happening?

Some days I wish I could just live in my dream world.
The fact that my conscious daydreams and unconscious night dreams don't differ from each other that much nowadays doesn't really help.

I guess I should give up, for this text is getting worse and more depressed with every word I write.

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