A waste of makeup.

makeup.jpgFRIDAY NIGHT.

I sit in my room solitary at the moment. The hallways that once buzzed with blow dryers and gossip alike are now silenced, and the only commotion comes from the soft hums of my heater.

It’s a typical Friday night, for the most part. Wild times are few and far between and I’ve come to accept this lifestyle, though it essentially brings me little fulfillment; this is how it is and shall be. I suppose it’s because I’m really not sure where to go from here, honestly.

Options are slim at the moment, but the evening has potential to be filled with such outlandish events as folding my laundry, making my bed, Photoshopping, or staring at my phone. Possibly all of the above, but likely none of the above – I’ll probably just sit here and eat chocolate (not complaining).

Likely there is a party somewhere on campus that I could wriggle my way into, a person that I could sit down and have a conversation with, or a car that I could drive to an offset destination and sustain a less-than charming night. Wherever said parties and people exist, I can find entirely no motivation tonight to seek them out. My car, on the other hand, is a rimy mass of steel sitting in a distant parking lot that I dare not venture to at the freezing moment.

As for now I will curl up into a massive fluff of goosedown comforter and watch what’s good on the telly. And eat chocolate.

You’re welcome.

One thought on “A waste of makeup.

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