Worn out

It feels a lot later than it should, somehow. Perhaps getting up at six thirty this morning has something to do with that. Maybe I have done more today than I have the rest of break together. Maybe I'm still just stressed over things that are not getting done. Either way, today feels like it has been extraordinarily long.
I'm saying lots of silly things because I have nothing else flowing from me at this point in time. I'm all worn out emotionally from Torchwood, for which I wept bitterly.

I saw friends today that are still friends, but not very close friends. I don't talk to them about the most important things which shouldn't be the most important things, but they are. We talk TV, but shows that aren't tied to the center of me, my core self. We saw a daft movie, at the end of which I sat laughing until I nearly cried, it was so  awful and amazing. I like retarded movies that don't mean to be retarded. If you're trying to be stupid, I'm irritated. If you think you're being cool, but failing, I laugh. What sort of person does that make me?  A cynical, sarcastic, awful one, I think. I think the failure of others is more amusing than their genuine attempts to amuse me. Hmm. I liked the movie. Going to leave that thought there.

Having a style is one thing, but reusing words or phrases bothers me. I can't even reuse a distinctive word in an entirely separate post. I remember that I used it somewhere else, and it's no good. Been used; goes in the trash bin. I have no recycling bin for words.

That was a random rant, and I haven't the foggiest idea where it came from. Oh well.