(no subject)
Dude, it's one thing to pretend I'm brave enough to read terror fanfic (or whatever it is called) that might (okay, so, yeah, it actually is) scaring the living shit out of me. It's another thing entirely to read this in the beginning of Part 10:
"It is certain that evil may attach itself to possessions, to jewelry and gems, to objects of value and objects of comparatively no worth, to pictures, to miniatures and photographs, and almost especially, perhaps, to articles of furniture." 1
And then scream in the back of my throat because, shit, I'm supposed to go to bed in a sec, you know? How the hell am I supposed to do that? Dude. That's just not happening. Just not fucking happening. *shudders* Argh. I'm such a chicken. I'm going to end up sleeping with the lights on tonight because, fuck, argh. I'm scared. *whimpers*
1: Snake Oil by Martha.
"It is certain that evil may attach itself to possessions, to jewelry and gems, to objects of value and objects of comparatively no worth, to pictures, to miniatures and photographs, and almost especially, perhaps, to articles of furniture." 1
And then scream in the back of my throat because, shit, I'm supposed to go to bed in a sec, you know? How the hell am I supposed to do that? Dude. That's just not happening. Just not fucking happening. *shudders* Argh. I'm such a chicken. I'm going to end up sleeping with the lights on tonight because, fuck, argh. I'm scared. *whimpers*
1: Snake Oil by Martha.