currently: Hmm... WAH!

*listening to the Police box set*

the bed's too big without you

The sun is shining. Hardly a single cloud paints the sky. The roses are in full bloom; their fragrance is carried into my room through the opened window. A spider is clinging to the screen, thinking spidery thoughts.

I got home from work a while ago, and I'm really quite tired, but I think I'll forego a nap today.

The Police make me want to dance. Rumba.

If you have to choose, my love, then you've already made up your mind. And though I still think of you when I pay attention to song lyrics, and I think of you when I go to bed... and I probably always will... won't it be better when I don't have to question myself? If you have to choose, it means there isn't enough there to let you know how you feel without hesitation. At least, that's how if feels.

the bed's too big without you

Onto another topic. Perception is a bitch. And while Lonelyfox struggles blindy through Pisces hell, I can't help but wonder when he'll rise up to the surface for some air. We may be fish, but--if given the opportunity--we can fly. It's like we're kin (last time I said that about someone, they fucked me over... so, if it happens again, here's proof that I set myself up for it). That's the only reason I can put up with his shit. And he puts up with mine. Most people would take my avoidance as an insult, but he just lets me have it so it can run its course.
His head's in a bad place right now. There've been some remarks on the exact location... heh, but you get the idea. I wonder if I can drag him away from the bottle long enough to watch Legend with me. Guess I should probably ask before I come to any conclusions.

You live your life like a canary in a coal mine
You get so dizzy even walking in a straight line.

I'm an atheist!

Which Enemy of the Christian Church Are You?
A(nother) Robert and Tim Creation

currently: putrid

*listening to Queen, "Bohemian Rhapsody"*

TRALAFUCKINGLA

Dear Die-ary,

I am getting more angsty by the minute, yes? *squeezes eyes shut*

If I could just find some fucking miracle cure to stupidity! First, I'd take a dose, then I'd pour it on the world.

Hey! Free cigarettes.

It's 3am and I work at 7am. SHEET.

can you read me, over?

Let us write the great romance.

Fuck romance. I was cold. I was distant. I was warmed. I was sweet. I was so close. I am frozen. I am blank. I surrender. Do whatever you want with me; I don't care anymore. Look at me, the walking corpse.

and the outside temperature rises and meaning is oh so clear one thousand and one yellow dafodils begin to dance in front of you, oh dear. are they trying to tell you something? you're missing that one final screw. you're simply not in the pink, my dear. to be honest, you haven't got a clue. i'm going slightly mad. i'm going slightly mad. it finally happened. it finally happened. it finally happened. it finally happened. i'm slightly mad. oh dear.

I suppose the best thing to do right now is shut the hell up and go take a nap.

Is this what love does to a maniac? Or is this just what love does to me when it goes away? In any case, I'd like it to stop, please. Becoming a hermit truly is sounding appealing.....