(no subject) : comments.
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![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Who knows? But I can barely handles the smallest doses of that shit. Especially if you stick me in a confined space like a car. Then I just get nauseous.
Oh, nice. At least he was your boyfriend?
Eh. It was nice and all but I guess I'm fickle because it didn't take me long before I wanted to escape the relationship. He was moving a little too fast with the whole "I'm in love with you" territory and I was also uncomfortable with scrutiny my Non was giving the relationship.
Then the thigh/Wooo! thing happened and I started questioning his sexuality. As did my cousin.
(Why? Why would you willingly enter into that? I'll pray for you, my friend.
No, my aunt and Mom are going to stay with me. My aunt also didn't want to get into a car with my grandparents for several hours and then stay stuck in a house populated my loud, annoying kids. My Mom wanted to go to my uncle Johnny's but I guess she's not going because of me which makes me feel guilty. I guess I'm going to have to put my limited cooking skills to the test and scrounge for food. Or, you know, make some mac and cheese.
And, duuuuude, distract me. I'm delaying cleaning my room in preparation for my mother.)
(no subject)
The idea of cooking food for Christmas myself terrifies me, even if it does just involve shoving stuff into the oven. I'll be thinking of you, hoping you haven't set yourself alight.
Distract you? Hm, well, I'm writing something that I promised I'd write an age ago, if you know what I mean, and now I'm remembering why I avoided it for so long. My icon may or may not be related. Also, my room looks like a bomb has gone off in it, so I feel for you.)
(no subject)
That was like the original fic I rooted for, wasn't it? And I didn't notice your icon at first so I had to scroll back up to the top to check and, holy crap, I never thought I would be so happy to be threatened by a gun and ball of electricity. How's it going?
And, I just dumped three large separate piles of clothes into one humongous pile and now I'm just sitting here. I'm hoping if I stare at it long enough that it will just disappear. Or form a monster and devour me. Either one works for me.)
(no subject)
It is indeed the original fic, or least the pairing. It's... going, slowly. I'm just about the kill a bunch of people off, so I'm starting to get back into my comfort zone. I really want to post it tonight, but I don't know if I'll get it finished how I want it that quickly.
You could tie all your clothes together and use them to escape out of your window. That always works in cartoons.)
(no subject)
Ah, you and death. You two just go hand and hand, don't ya? And slowly is better than not at all. I'm just glad you're finally writing that sucker again.
Well in real life, I would be throwing my clothes into a pile of crap. Crap of the literal kind and junk that my Pops piles up on the side of the house.
I always do this though. It's a problem of mine. I'll get all pumped and determined to clean and my energy will sputter out right in the middle and my room gets stuck in this chaotic bubble of suckage. Or I'll waste all my energy creating a playlist to awkwardly groove to while I clean.)