she'd been staring at her internet for approximately 60 hours. she was supposed to be packing. her things. her precious things were comingled with her unprecious things, causing tremendous anxiety.

i was supposed to have thrown much of this away by now. i had told myself this when i moved in. now i'm moving out. how did this happen to me? what is wrong with me?

she was absurdly pensive for a person listening to the 'hip hop bbq' station on pandora. her back ached from procrastination. no. thats not right! thats not what she does, and not who she is. is who she is the person with all this half assed shit badly packed in boxes? or is she the one with the stuff still left to pack? who are any of us really?

she bought some cigarettes for the process. winston's - her friend anna's brand. she missed her real friends because they weren't with her. nobody was. just this garbage! why does she have any of it?

does she even have friends?

who am i? a combination of who i am not? this isn't me. i'm can't be this nonexistent garbage that won't put itself into these boxes. everything is so dirty! how do i live like this? surrounding by cheap plastic trinkets.

how to float right out of this life that she's seemed to float right into somehow without realizing it. that she's a nomad is made all the more plain by the absolute proof that she is not.

I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN BERLIN

its not worth it! none of it is!