Rabid monkeys with fancy tools

I was at a restaurant today and I saw a woman come in with her caucasian boyfriend, and I thought to myself, ‘my blue eyes is better looking than that guy.’ Then I made myself wonder why I thought that, because my blue eyes isn’t even mine. Why did I think that? Laying claim to a person who isn’t .. well .. mine.
I’ve been talking to myself a lot. Too much for comfort. Loudly. I talk to myself when I think that no one’s at home. Usually no one’s at home, but I know that one day I’ll assume too much and talk to myself loudly and someone comes by and they’d think that I’m a loony. I believe that that’s the extent of my narcissistic tendencies. I love to hear my own voice so much that I began talking to myself. Conclusion: I’m not loony (not yet, anyhow), just extremely narcissistic.
Death depresses me. Suicide depresses me even more. When I hear of suicide stories, it makes me gloomy (you won’t know it, but I do get gloomy) for a few days. But I think that the effect lasts longer than that in my subconscious. Way longer than a few days. Really freaks me one good, it does.
I also suddenly realised that that guy in my class, he’s really, really cute. I NEED BALLS, MAN. I NEED TO PICK UP THE GODDAM COURAGE AND SAY HELLO TO HIM GODDAMIT.

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