i'm sitting in the bed with my laptop obsessively checking my email and staring out the windows. there's still snow on the ground. it's hard to explain what i mean when i say that it's all starting to feel like a movie again. it's hard to explain that i feel there's a director posing my every move. my thoughts feel like narration again. i feel like i need to write this out so that next time i go to read it i'll have it documented. that it's happening again. i'm listening to myself type and it feels a lot like that fake typing sound...dubbed over when you're watching it on TV..whenever someone types in a show it's always abnormally loud...too clicky. that's how it sounds now. it's almost deafening really. the snow still hasn't melted and i'm assuming it won't any time soon since it's freezing out. i wish i could explain it. i went to go get a glass a water from the kitchen and kept waiting for the directions. what was it i was supposed to do next? the narrator kicks in and out. she's just not paying attention sometimes.

i could listen to this clicking all day. i'm still waiting for your call.