My body is falling apart.

Yay finals.

Was listening to The Smiths, missing my enlarged photograph of a room with a Morrissey poster on the wall, decided to look him up on Wikipedia.

Happy birthday, Morrissey.

Just had a super morbid thought:

What if a Tumblr-famous person was recognized on the street and kidnapped or held hostage and forced to dress up and take pictures like they normally do, and go out and pretend like they were still living their lives normally, but really, behind every Photobooth picture is the threat of a loaded gun and behind every smile is an unheard cry for help.

My coffee tastes like cigarettes.