secret motel

I don't know why I'm posting so many entries tonight. Or this morning. Writing myself to sleep. Lugging my half-hearted heart through the dead hours of morning, through a landscape of vacant lots and abandoned houses. I wish there was somewhere to get to, something to reach. This isn't going to turn out well, is it? Everyone is going so fast. Please forgive my lack of life. I've never done this before. I don't understand how people meet and love. I don't even know how to finish dying.