For the interest of people not interested in my emotional state, I'm separating them, labelling them, and putting my writingness part first.
WRITINGNESS:
It's been coming along, I suppose. The new cycle system is simultaneously a blessing and a curse; it forces me to update everything which makes more people happy, but it forces me to update everything- including, in some cases, things I have absolutely no idea what to do with at all. Bleh. But anyway...
Alternatively is the one that's really biting me right now, but I'm at Starlight in the cycle and Alternatively is depressingly far away... :'( But here's a preview, for those of you who want one.
"Who are you?" she asked, panting slightly. She could feel blood trickling down her face, to her eyes. She wiped it away, but not before some had slid across her irises. It stung and her vison swam even more; she was fighting not to pass out, but could feel the darkness closing in on all sides... Where was the Doctor?
"We are the Tel," said the figure. "You will sleep now. You are needed."
"What for?" she asked, stumbling to her feet. She leaned against a wall and closed her eyes. The blood loss wasn't helping, but it wasn't the only thing that was making her like this; she knew what that felt like, and this wasn't nearly bad enough to cause her to pass out. Her bones felt like they were lead, her muscles lying limp and useless under silver-leaf skin. A bolt of fear passed through her; what was happening? Where was he?
"You will defeat the Doctor for us."
"No." Her tongue was heavy, hard to move, but she managed to grind out the negative even as purple spots began to overtake her vision.
"You have no choice," replied the figure.
The blackness got closer. "What have you done to me?" she hissed, before her legs gave out and she collapsed, striking the wall before sliding to a crushing halt on the cold stone floor.
The last thing she felt before the darkness obliterated everything was the Doctor screaming her name.
Humdoodledoo. Lalala.
So, yeah. That's pretty much that. I might have to watch Stardust again... don't really know, though. I've got a pretty random original!fic idea... let me know if anyone wants me to start writing it and posting it on here. :)
EMOTIONALNESS:
Haahhh... how to begin. Well. I thought this particular creature of the male persuasion had a particular affinity for me in a particularly non-platonic manner, but since I can read upside-down from three and a half feet away and was dropping a few eaves as well, apparently it isn't me. It used to be someone who wasn't me, but he got over it, apparently. But I've been thinking. Quite a bit. Because I do that.
I can only come up with three explanations for his behaviour towards me. I'm not normal; I don't leap to crazy conclusions that creatures of the male persuasion love me desperately simply because they say "hello" on a regular basis. No. This went beyond. This went... beyond. To the point where one of my friends, when inquiring about this particular ship, did not ask me if I liked him in a non-platonic manner; no. She asked us if we were dating. That's how obvious it is. Everyone around me saw it centuries before I did. This cannot be merely my imagination. There had to be something, I have concluded. So on to the possible explanations.
1. He is lying to himself. I can understand that. I've lied to myself about similar subjects many times. (Such as the time when I was pretending that I was going all emo-kid-in-"love" over some other random dude when, in my rare moments of clarity, I would sort of half-admit to myself that my attentions and affections belonged more fully to the young man of which I am now speaking.) Doesn't make it any less irking, because this way it'll be a hell of a lot harder to get him to admit anything (not that he would anyway; he doesn't seem to be looking for anything more than a faint, unspoken romantic interest and even that appears to irk him at the moment), but it would still explain his actions.
2. He is lying to everyone else. I went through that stage with him as well. This one is slightly more desirable, as he would have at least admitted it to himself, but is no less irritating in its own way.
3. He simply hasn't noticed. (He's male. As intelligent and fantastic and generally not-the-clichè-teenaged-boy as he can be, there's still that Y chromosome. I wouldn't put it past him.)
But you don't really care about that, do you?
In other news, I've almost got my hands on the new Doctor Who font ("Deviant Strain") and I've downloaded the Evanescence one... hooray. And I've got writer's block on a contest entry for Allpoetry, but ah well.
Ah well.
Be seeing you. :)