It's a vicious cycle. Every mid-week I go through the same rituals. By early Tuesday, I would have consumed an average of 48 ounces of coke floats; converged with friends with incessant conversations, no, dissertations on single-blessedness and poignant theories on that Chanel-clad, boyfriendless future; and taken in a week worth's stress over my lawskul performance.
It's mad. It's Bjork-Mad Hatter mad.
There ought to be some loop hole, a glitch, a system error.
My life is like Orange and Lemon's PBB theme on repeat. Oi!
What I would do for some drama...hmmm...
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