GET OUT OF MY SPACE BEFORE I SHOOT YOU...

I'm not sure what it is about that site that possesses myself and millions others to spend long, empty hours staring at our own profiles, and the nonsensical profiles of others...
But if Eddie is doing it, there can't be that much harm involved.
I long for Orlando again, as I sit, reclined in my grandmother's computer chair (Aptly named "cushionless" by the people who truly count: Me.), inept at thought and the process of expelling said thought.
I need to go "journal."
If I remember what a pen feels like.