Cause you keep me from falling apart

I'm gonna make a list of things that are happening before the year ends. I know I've done this already... but it wasn't very apparent or blatant then. Now that there's about 2 months left in the year, I would like to explicitly mention what I'm supposed to commit to. In 2 months.

- Project Work (WR submission: 31st Oct. OP date: 10th Nov)
- China trip (17th Nov - 1st Dec)
- Band camp (3rd Dec - 5th Dec)
- Church camp (10th - 13th Dec)
- Fiesta concert (11th Dec)
- Acapella (27th Dec)

This things? They don't start on those dates mentioned. They require work, and planning, and more planning, and more work. And hours I can't afford. And these are only the major things I need to worry about. There're many small tiny pain-in-the-ass things I need to do too.

Oh right. Note the dates. See the spaces in between. It's a laugh.

Tonight I've fallen and I can't get up

And I'm so sorry, but not really.

I think I should just lock up my computer.

You’re a canary, I’m a coal mine
Cause sorrow is just all the rage
Take one for the team
You all know what I mean

And I’m so sorry, but not really
Tell the boys where to find my body
New York eyes, Chicago thighs
Pushed up the window to kiss you off

I've got all this ringing in my ears and none on my fingers. - Fall Out Boy


She walked into the room. Her eyes carried unshed tears that echoed years of bitterness which never found closure. She eyed the room unconciously, her eyes settling on an old dresser standing proudly in the corner. In a quick flash of movement, she crossed the bed and grabbed the sides of the aged furniture, shaking it violently. Her tears silently wet her face as she abused the dark brown oak, giving it a hefty push as she growled with frustration. The sound of wood smacking onto the wall seemed to wake her up. Her eyes blinked wide as she stared at the brutally, manhandled dresser. Something shiny on the floor caught her eye; A letter opener with elegant carvings on its handle. She slowly bent her aching knees, reaching out for the attractive object. Her long fingers curled themselves around the blade and she could feel warm liquid stain her palm as she tightened her fist. Drawing the knife closer to herself, she slowly opened her fist and stared at the beautiful markings on the handle, now stained with red. Her vision blurred once more as tear drops fell onto the knife, cleaning it of the crimson. Throwing the knife down, she abruptly stood up and dragged the back of her clean hand across her face, cleaning it. Then she walked towards the open hallway, never once looking back.