kiss of dawn.
I'm sitting here watching Digital Versatile Doom [at long fucking last too, I've had it since Christmas but everyone fucking interrupts me when I try to watch it. YOU DO NOT PAUSE HIM, ASSHOLES.] on my grandmother's LCD TV, and...
I've gone indescribably mushy.
I'm watching It's All Tears now, but ohmyshitlord. Join Me is... gah. It's always been my favorite HIM song, ever since I first heard it.
I don't know. Maybe it's the prospect that they're coming out with a new album in September, and are therefore touring next year, and I'm seeing them.
Not I didn't say might be there, I am seeing them. I don't give a flying camel-fuck what my mother/father/great-uncle John have to say about it. I don't care if I have to live off bread rolls and water for a month. It's... more important than anything. Ever.
-insert pause here for squee-age at Sleepwalking-
I feel my parents owe it to me. This time last year, when I was so fucking... wrecked it wasn't funny, they only got me into the shrink once. It was only ten bucks or something, too [charity and donation funded, y'see]. I had to find my own therapy, something that didn't give them the trouble of taking me to appointments. In other words, HIM. I think the money [which should have been ten bucks a week or fortnight, I believe] that's added up comes to far more than what it would cost for normal, everyday HIM tickets.
-pause for a squeal for Killing Loneliness-
When I go, I'm convincing my mother/father/whoever comes with me to stay back after the show. For hours, if need be. I'll need to, and I know it. And ohmyshit, I don't even want to think about after they leave...
Dude, I just realized I'm planning like, twelve-fourteen-sixteen months ahead.
I am such a fucking lame-ass loser.
-pause for mega happydance in hail of Soul on Fire-
I love the remix of this on Uneasy Listening...
Ohmyshit, Ville makes the most adorable faces.
Ohmyshit, I think I just realized just how lame I am. Ohdamnit, it's meant to be a secret.
Or so I'm told.
Anyway, back to the angels.
When I go and see HIM, I refuse to tell Shihana. I told her about Cradle and she acted like the fucking bee's knees about it, like she was the one who was [totally innocently] stalking Dani Filth's profile on the official Cradle site and found that they're coming to Sydney.
-pause for little girly squeak for Your Sweet 666-
Speaking of... her [her being Shihana], she won't fucking leave me be. She calls every day, she's been down at my house pretty much everyday the past two weeks, everything. She stayed over on Friday, went home Saturday, then came back on Sunday and didn't go home until fucking four on Monday.
Then she called me yesterday [interrupting a phonecall wth my grandmother to ask her if I could crash at her place for a couple of days, which I am] to tell me she fucking downloaded HIM songs.
Off Limewire.
Illegaly.
I wanted to fucking bolt it up to her place and rip her eyes out. Painfully.
-pause for dazed look at Bleed Well-
She had the girl-balls to say HIM's her new favorite band, and that You Are The One and Right Here In My Arms are her two favorite songs.
Can anyone communicate with some higher or lower beings and make them kill me now?
She only likes HIM because I do. It's the same with every band she 'likes'. Hell, I know for a fact she doesn't like it when anyone but me has it on; her boyfriend likes And Love Said No[which she knows is HIM], and when he put it on on his phone [I wasn't in the room], she told him to turn the shit off.
Needless to say, ow.
And she fucking... she's like a bad roommate at college, only worse because I can't yell at her [my parents'll have my ass mounted on the living room wall].
-pause for a stolen glance of Right Here In My Arms-
She went into my room the other day while I was checking my emails and whatnot, downloading updates and the like, and made herself at home on my bed watching Viva La Bam DVDs. I went to bed the next night and there were fucking chocolate wrappers through my bed and an empty packet of chicken chips on the floor.
I can't kick her out, my home phone doesn't have caller ID, her mobile number's constantly changing so I never know if she's calling my cell and she can still text me.
I will shoot myself if she's in my class this year, I fucking swear.
Well, I'd claim I had agoraphobia and stay huddled up in my room with my HIM merch and fanfiction in abundance.
Fuggaduck.
But, nothing's going to ruin my mood now. Not at the moment.
Ville makes everything better; matter of fact.
I've gone indescribably mushy.
I'm watching It's All Tears now, but ohmyshitlord. Join Me is... gah. It's always been my favorite HIM song, ever since I first heard it.
I don't know. Maybe it's the prospect that they're coming out with a new album in September, and are therefore touring next year, and I'm seeing them.
Not I didn't say might be there, I am seeing them. I don't give a flying camel-fuck what my mother/father/great-uncle John have to say about it. I don't care if I have to live off bread rolls and water for a month. It's... more important than anything. Ever.
-insert pause here for squee-age at Sleepwalking-
I feel my parents owe it to me. This time last year, when I was so fucking... wrecked it wasn't funny, they only got me into the shrink once. It was only ten bucks or something, too [charity and donation funded, y'see]. I had to find my own therapy, something that didn't give them the trouble of taking me to appointments. In other words, HIM. I think the money [which should have been ten bucks a week or fortnight, I believe] that's added up comes to far more than what it would cost for normal, everyday HIM tickets.
-pause for a squeal for Killing Loneliness-
When I go, I'm convincing my mother/father/whoever comes with me to stay back after the show. For hours, if need be. I'll need to, and I know it. And ohmyshit, I don't even want to think about after they leave...
Dude, I just realized I'm planning like, twelve-fourteen-sixteen months ahead.
I am such a fucking lame-ass loser.
-pause for mega happydance in hail of Soul on Fire-
I love the remix of this on Uneasy Listening...
Ohmyshit, Ville makes the most adorable faces.
Ohmyshit, I think I just realized just how lame I am. Ohdamnit, it's meant to be a secret.
Or so I'm told.
Anyway, back to the angels.
When I go and see HIM, I refuse to tell Shihana. I told her about Cradle and she acted like the fucking bee's knees about it, like she was the one who was [totally innocently] stalking Dani Filth's profile on the official Cradle site and found that they're coming to Sydney.
-pause for little girly squeak for Your Sweet 666-
Speaking of... her [her being Shihana], she won't fucking leave me be. She calls every day, she's been down at my house pretty much everyday the past two weeks, everything. She stayed over on Friday, went home Saturday, then came back on Sunday and didn't go home until fucking four on Monday.
Then she called me yesterday [interrupting a phonecall wth my grandmother to ask her if I could crash at her place for a couple of days, which I am] to tell me she fucking downloaded HIM songs.
Off Limewire.
Illegaly.
I wanted to fucking bolt it up to her place and rip her eyes out. Painfully.
-pause for dazed look at Bleed Well-
She had the girl-balls to say HIM's her new favorite band, and that You Are The One and Right Here In My Arms are her two favorite songs.
Can anyone communicate with some higher or lower beings and make them kill me now?
She only likes HIM because I do. It's the same with every band she 'likes'. Hell, I know for a fact she doesn't like it when anyone but me has it on; her boyfriend likes And Love Said No[which she knows is HIM], and when he put it on on his phone [I wasn't in the room], she told him to turn the shit off.
Needless to say, ow.
And she fucking... she's like a bad roommate at college, only worse because I can't yell at her [my parents'll have my ass mounted on the living room wall].
-pause for a stolen glance of Right Here In My Arms-
She went into my room the other day while I was checking my emails and whatnot, downloading updates and the like, and made herself at home on my bed watching Viva La Bam DVDs. I went to bed the next night and there were fucking chocolate wrappers through my bed and an empty packet of chicken chips on the floor.
I can't kick her out, my home phone doesn't have caller ID, her mobile number's constantly changing so I never know if she's calling my cell and she can still text me.
I will shoot myself if she's in my class this year, I fucking swear.
Well, I'd claim I had agoraphobia and stay huddled up in my room with my HIM merch and fanfiction in abundance.
Fuggaduck.
But, nothing's going to ruin my mood now. Not at the moment.
Ville makes everything better; matter of fact.