the devil on my shoulder

ah, yes, i like to eat toast.
its funny two hours i was so tired and now im all distracted and i want to keep being awake and make the most of the time i have to talk to people. person.
i made some silly choices, i really did, she thinks, listening to Alice in Chains with eyes wide open.
i want to kill myself for writing that. kidding, not actually kill but maybe maim. or like, gently destroy my own fingernails.
yeah, fingernails is good. man i really want to sleep, i think it might be time soon, even though it is only ten forty five.
i am all flustered and evil. i want to sleep i want to sleep i want to sleep. but sleep is such a waste of time.
i dont have all day, i only have like and hour and fifteen minutes left, and thats not heaps if you actually think about it.
OH MY GOD STOP BEING OFFLINE>
i want to eat someone, facebook chat sucks so much, i swear to god.
i hate this whole thing where every time i take a breath in my whole chest just seizes up and i start choking on air. its really comfortable, exactly how the body should work. plus mum hears every time i cough and she knows im awake, and keeps texting me to breathe deep, seek peace, and sleep. the sleep bit is in capitals too, so you know she's serious, even though she can't be bothered getting out of bed, walking ten meters to my room and complaining at me.
i just realised the other day that i seem to be really good at writing in run on sentences, with lots of full stops, and not much point.
and then i realised that im sitting in the dark, listening to Alice in Chains, blogging and smiling stupidly at my computer because of a totally mundane sentence that said, 'Its getting to small for me'.
that was in reference to a jacket. what the fuck is wrong with me.
i need psychiatrical help soon