drugstore perfume.

this song is imprinted in my brain. well, after listening to it over and over almost every single day ever since "Hesitant Alien" came out, and singing to it while waiting on jeeps or looking out windows, it would be no wonder why this song resonates so well with me.

but then again, it's more than that. this song speaks to me because i feel that this song is about me. i mean yes, it could possibly be a song about a prostitute or a club-hopper, but it says what i've always wanted to say.

that she can change for love

and she explains how long she's waited for

she wanted more

in recent days, i've come to the conclusion that yes, i am suffering from depression. but i know that depression is a mindset--not an illness. and even if it really were an illness, it can be countered--not through drugs or through straitjackets, but through love.

and that song is just with me wherever i go. i can't shut it off or shoo it away. somehow the song has said everything i've ever wanted to say, and anyone who would really want to know who i am could just listen to this song, and hopefully go, "so that's who she is."

and maybe someday, someone would say, "i get it now."

--

i'm now writing a story based off this song, and under the same name. it's about a postal worker named Dave who meets a city girl named Meg. i just started last night, and i'm already at 842 words.

also it may or may not have an atomic bomb in it.

maybe.

to be true, i don't know if anything will really happen for me and somebody else.

i don't know if anyone will ever really like me or what i like because i just feel so different. i look at my Facebook page, my tweets, my notebooks, my drawings and everything else... and i just feel abnormal. not that what i like is bad--it just seems impossible that anyone would fancy someone like me.

but i mean... why can't i be liked by someone wonderful? why can't i for once be desired by someone talented and creative and handsome? or someone wise, brave and humble? why does it seem as though he doesn't even exist? if he does, why is it so hard to find him? and if he doesn't? why is it so hard for me to accept that?

absolutely positively wonderfully fantastically stupendously out of ideas.

so.

for the first time in quite a while, i am out of ideas.

i'm stuck on this twelve-page photography book on "Hope," and i can't come up with a single plot or a central idea for it.

i've been jotting down ideas every night, thinking about possible plots when at the mall or walking to school or staring at the ceiling, but nothing seems to be working. nothing at all. and even with that mind map you see above, i still have nothing to work with.

you bet it's one of the most terrible things in the universe... it's also an Aman plate, for goodness sakes... even when i dare sleep it off to think of something new, nothing comes up for it. it's terrible--'specially when this subject happens to be your favorite subject as well.

i'm really hoping the deadline for this won't be next week... i've just got nothing on me yet.