awkward, clumsy troglodyte with a knack for metamorphosing to and fro between extreme self-depreciation and immense self-appreciation. It’s weird, I know. I listen to a shit load of music, read (or used to anyway) a shitload of books and watch a shitload of films. Sometimes, people see me all dazed and happy. They they I’m high, I swear i’m not, I just think a lot about, well, everything. My train(s) of thought usually end up at the same place? I made up idealized versions of my life, situations I wouldn’t mind spending my existence in. They usually just leave me happy and disoriented, and stuff.