we're all dead inside.

he hates the environment he's in. he hates the fact he has to get shit done, hates that the heat is always cranked the fuck up so he can't breathe properly, hates that he has no one to keep him to a schedule or functioning properly or something of the sort. he's spending his days watching doctor who and eating cookies and chocolate from a bag. he no longer has any sort of social life. it's been a long road from never home to never out. he's slowly been becoming a hermit despite his better judgement. he misses the real life out there with real people and talking in actual voice instead of typing. he misses the laughter and booze and smoke in the air of the nights he'll treasure as his social high. even when it was just two or three other people, he misses just being out with people and spending time with them.  <3 <3