I picked the ripest one, I still got the seed.

Today's the start of a three day weekend. I'm supposed to be - 1)tingling in sheer anticipation 2) bursting into song and dance 3) marvelling - at the sheer prospect of three entire days of freedom. But yet I'm not. And it's no wonder why.

Something inside me isn't right. As cheesy as this sounds, I just don't feel whole. And before you go blaming it on my teenage angst, I have to rather impetulantly declare that I don't think my fluctuating hormones are the cause of the problem. I shan't hastily dispel these thoughts with a nonchalant 'whatever' and a careless shrug. What I shall do is call somebody. Now.

Make me feel this way again.