So it goes. My recycling campaign has come to and end, and my thesis is coming to an end soon too, among other things. If only all that ended would leave me with a little more, rather than a gaping emptiness.
It's times like these that I wish I couldn't care, couldn't feel and couldn't think. It's times like these that I wish mine was a hairy heart, locked away and impervious to all. Guess my ice_princess email nick wasn't as accurate a description of me as I once thought it was.
It was all fine, until I came along and screwed it (and myself) all up, as only I could.
Whatever it is, that's how the cookie crumbles and brings emoness with it. And I gotta drag myself through 3 chapters of my thesis with the dead weight of emoness clanking along. sigh.