(no subject)
So, there's one roommate here who gets on my nerves more than any of the others... and something died in his room! He came prancing home from visiting his GF's parents, and opened the door and "WHOOOOOoOOAOoaOOAOO!" it smells like something died in there.
Hahahaha...
...and I had nothing to with it really!
- - - - - - - -
Wow, I don't even know When I started to write that, but when I logged on to review my Memories and copy them to my New laptop (look, guys, i finally got my own after everyone else got their's at least five years ago!), I began to look at the archive, I began to read old memories from those fucked up times... looking at all the comments people left me, words of shyly, safely offered care and encouragement...
...and realized what a FUCKED UP SELF CENTERED LITTLE TWAT I AM!
- - - - - - -
Anyway, things in my life are changing, slowly, slowly, for the better. Unfolding like those scarlet blossoms of old, only no longer of blood, but something more like... wine. MMMmmMmMmm... love the loverly wine!
Does anyone else still haunt these old paths? Or am I returning too late? The jaded hopeless protagonist of some self flagellatory movie who dashes to a place of assured comfort, only to find it empty. A shaft of light cuts into a room, illuminates the lone chair and used paintbrush in a sparkling of dust motes.
Hahahaha...
...and I had nothing to with it really!
- - - - - - - -
Wow, I don't even know When I started to write that, but when I logged on to review my Memories and copy them to my New laptop (look, guys, i finally got my own after everyone else got their's at least five years ago!), I began to look at the archive, I began to read old memories from those fucked up times... looking at all the comments people left me, words of shyly, safely offered care and encouragement...
...and realized what a FUCKED UP SELF CENTERED LITTLE TWAT I AM!
- - - - - - -
Anyway, things in my life are changing, slowly, slowly, for the better. Unfolding like those scarlet blossoms of old, only no longer of blood, but something more like... wine. MMMmmMmMmm... love the loverly wine!
Does anyone else still haunt these old paths? Or am I returning too late? The jaded hopeless protagonist of some self flagellatory movie who dashes to a place of assured comfort, only to find it empty. A shaft of light cuts into a room, illuminates the lone chair and used paintbrush in a sparkling of dust motes.