029 -- dictated;

[breakmychest]

[Spike's been feeling kind of down, lately. Down enough that he's drinking in the Death Match as opposed to in his usual Caritas haunt. He doesn't really want to run into people he knows.

After a while, he opens his journal and starts talking into it, looking at his drink as opposed to the book itself.]I've been a full year here now, so it seems

Comments

Dictated.

[equestrian_envy]

[A bit impressed actually.]

You are okay with expressing your slam poetry so easily?

How... forward.

Dictated forever.

[breakmychest]

"Okay" with it? That's not the word I'd use.
This poetry crap's a thing I didn't choose.

[equestrian_envy]

Then why are doing such a thing so... so publicly?

[breakmychest]

Why talk to me at all? I don't know you.
So bugger off, it's not a sodding zoo.

[equestrian_envy]

I'm merely interested in why you can be so opening emotional. It's both intriguing and disgusting.