Tounge Tied and Oh So Squemish

everythings only half there half thought of half remembered and all these pieces keep getting jumbled.
getting pretty tired of it.

palm of my hand keeps itching. i can only hope the wives tale comes true.

"oh dead.
did you get what you deserve?
if life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?"

at this point laughter is right at the brink of madness and i simply can't contain it or stop. then its right back to the poker face, a mask of intensity covering apathy and whatever the exact extreme opposite of that is, with plenty of boredom and loathing mixed in for good measure.
my cheerfulness suprised even me today. i know you didn't have a good weekend or a good day today, and i don't know why i don't stop asking.