I wonder if i have to figure out the world. I’m a perfectionist. The best kind/the worst kind. I’m overly analytical. If you read this, your probably already know that. If you read this, you probably know me. I don’t think it’s always a bad thing. I don’t think it’s always a good thing. I don’t not think, though.  That is always true.  Today I’m going to Ikea to look at things I cannot afford.  I wish I could.  I want a new bedframe. The one that’s on the floor.  It has slats for springs, more European.  If I could jump on a plane and leave tomorrow, I would. I’d go anywhere.  I’d do everything.  Sometimes I feel like smiling isn’t enough but words don’t make sense.  Life is risky. I have no luck. I kind of feel like i’m in Cabaret without Berlin.  I had so many dreams about Berlin before.  It seems like German is the next language I should learn.  This post is just a glimpse into a microsecond that is my brain.  I should write like this from now on.  When I try to formulate things into stories or thoughts they don’t usually convey what I’m fully thinking. Neither does this. I can’t get it all out. I wouldn’t, though. I have to keep some stuff in.  I’ll keep some stuff in. Alright.  I have to shower. Ikea. Today the squirrel just stared at me. It’s not scared of me anymore.Squirrle face