Rust
Okay...there's been a dramatic decline in just about...everything, lately. People being down, people pissing people off, people biting people, people peopling people.
Um...yeah.
It's like the color and richness in everything has faded and there's now nothing but a dull, dead...gray. Like rust.
...It's annoying me...
The sky is falling and the shadow is descending and growing darker and darker but how can you and your little hands ever hope to hold up the sky? It makes no sense.
Plus, I feel like I'm--annoying. Really. I feel like I simply tag along and laugh overly loud or tell a stupid joke or talk too much or whatever. All the reasons why I'm so self-conscious and shut myself the hell up most of the time any way.
Well, if I'm ever annoying/irritating/mind-numbingly irksome in any way, shape, or form, let me know. I'd rather be told to my face, where we can discuss it like two mature, intelligent adults, than be whispered about to someone else, as if we're still in junior high, or as if I'm made out of glass...which does nothing to solve the problem, any-freaking-way, and only does everything to aggravate it.
That's another thing. But, I'm not even gonna get into that. I'm just giving a warning: I really hate that. I dealt with that constantly in my old school. I've had enough for one lifetime. And, I've had enough. I'm stressed as it is. Save me what little sanity I have left by being honest, at least.
Mike and Chris have depleted my piggy bank. I am practically broke. All I have left is change...and I don't like bothering with change. They all most likely amount to something less than three dollars, anyway, which is nothing that can do anything for me. So, yeah.
I must quickly get money, again, for Keith's birthday.
...Why do so many people have birthdays, now? And why must I be so caring?
Hmph. -_-
That party was awesome, though. Fun.
Today was fine. And funny, too. Chris drew a picture of me, Gil, Jill, and himself, based on that Mystic Heroes game we played at Mike's. I'm the Obedient Mage (which means you have to command me to breathe, otherwise I'll die), Gil is the Headstrong Leader (he does nothing you tell him to do and everything you tell him not to do), Jill is the...well...Bitch (well, that's what she's called!; she'll kill something and beat its corpse until the cows come home), and Chris is just the Struggling Leader, who's ready, at any moment, to pull his hair out and say "SCREW THIS CRAP!" and pull the plug outta the wall.
Funneh.
Hmmm.
Out of the kindness of my heart, I'm giving you insignificant peons a chance to shine in the spotlight:
Pilfered from the top secret, confidential files of Natasha:
Comment and I'll tell you something(s) I adore about you.
Afterwards, copy and paste this into your own journal.
Compliments rock, don't they?
::waves and walks away::