a string of logic and none

Also, I've thought of this carefully during science—both science and other classes,—since until one or two weeks ago we were covering heat transfers and energy.. you can't 'gain' coldness, right? It's simply the absence of heat. So, would it apply to the next thing I'm to say? Maybe, hate isn't its own entity, and instead the absence of love. I HAD something to say about the law of reflection, and a great idea I had for a story. Capitalisation of the 'had' means I can't articulate it well enough to make it exist coherently, yet. I'm probably going to add this entry into my physical diary, of esurience, yearning, despair, and denial... All characteristics of which I never act upon, most likely because I strongly believe my mental detriment makes me create beautiful things. There's a reason starving artists are only appreciated after death, if at all.

(This is not the big revelation I thought it was. No average person is unique. I feel the same feeling I felt after watching 'Girl, Interrupted' for the first time and romanticised the idea of being accepted in the psychiatric ward. 'I'll never fall into a state like that again!', I thought. Evidently, the contrary's happened.)

pains on my tongue

on the way to school i was cautiously slurping the mocha and hot chocolate concoction my mum made, in small increments because it was too hot to cool down quickly enough with my saliva. each time i sipped the warmth would turn into burning on my lips. the velocity of the car over a speed bump chucked my cupped hands back, and forth went a huge dollop of lava onto my tongue. it hurt, and i'm fine now as i write this at the blade of the sun bleeding through the car's windows. what i'm more worried about is how much i liked the burn. so now this fool is much too scared to try it again in fear of discovering the art of masochism.