Thursday, January 26th, 2012. My stomach is pissed off again. I guess it might be due to the fact that all I’ve put in it in the past four days is coffee and some pizza. I’m twenty-one today and I guess that’s supposed to mean something, but all I really feel is tired and worn out. My clothes are dirty and I have slept no more than a combined ten hours since Sunday. I think about too many things and worry about everyone close to me too often and my mind has become this convoluted mess of paranoia, confusion and doubt. There’s mail that I’m too nervous to open scattered across my floor. I feel younger than ever before which doesn’t seem appropriate, but maybe it is. Who really knows? The window is open but it’s 3AM and I haven’t heard a car pass by in almost an hour which is rare for my street. I’m sitting in adoration because I can’t recall the last time I heard absolute silence so simple and unadulterated. Everything is and will always be okay.