Mood is somewhat more reflective rather than distracted. But I won't deny that I'm also pretty distracted.

It's almost 2 am here. I'm lying on my stomach with laptop light illuminating my face. Heat radiates from the laptop, but as my brother's fan is going full blast, so it's still quite cool. It's nice and quiet, as it always is at this hour. And I feel like writing. I never feel like writing. I'll humor myself anyway.

The day is nicest at the middle of the night. I like to look out at the empty suburban streets and see the lamposts spread their light to nobody on the concrete paths beneath. I will probably remember those streets forever. The withered Texas grass is as grey as the roadway at night. It's sort of nice how everything turns grey at night. And now...

I don't feel like writing anymore.

Wow. Somewhat of a Strong Sad moment there. 'Course, my writing isn't really all good or serious or anything. I was just typing my mind. I wish I could get inspired to write like that when in AP English 4. That really never happens though. Like, really.

I still feel sorta reflective though.

I need more stuff to draw.