I have no idea what is wrong with me. I feel like I've been chugging scotch. I feel restless, disoriented and violent. Not a good combination...no matter how much it reflects my Scots ancestry. I don't know if it's just my soul crushing job anymore...

Maybe it's my realisation that I you can never truly KNOW anyone, cause people are so f-ing good at hiding themselves. Maybe it's that I can't get this gut wrenching weight in my chest to subside. That feeling that conjures the same movie reel in my brain of all his secrets; the real ones I've discovered and the ones I still don't know about. The ones I imagine of course are much worse. I hope. Dammit. Janet. (little hommage on this halloweenie day to Rocky Horror)

I don't know what the bloody hell is wrong with me.