I've got a bar of green tea scented soap by my desk. My sister gave it to me last semester not to use as soap, but as "soapourri", if you will (you can kick me later). It filled up my room with that scent at the end of last school year. I have it in my room again this year, but I can't smell it unless I put my nose to it. The smell blunts my senses, dulls my soul, and somehow makes all my thoughts sharp and pointed and focused on everything that happened then.

I should probably get rid of it.

But I can't.

I wanna get me a little oblivion, baby, try to keep myself away from me. - Counting Crows, "Perfect Blue Buildings"