Who the fuck let me near a computer four years ago? Matter of fact, why are you still letting me near a computer? I've been rereading all my old things, journalling and fic writing both, and am generally mortified. I certainly violated some sort of unlimited italics license, not to mention the friggin' pretentiousness of busting out non-capitalized
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Oh, man... You think you're bad? My shit from only a couple of years ago is awful. I'm so glad most of it was lost... >.>;
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I never let myself make editing or deleting decisions when I'm in such a destructive state of mind, but man, I was holding myself back last night.
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"What did I tell you about leaving Strife holding the baby, Reno."
"Respectfully, sir, there was no infant."
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I've been meaning to look it up sometime, just because I find it strange that I remember it so well. And I guess it was what made me keep reading. Weird and stalkery.
Also, bitter envy at you having dreamed of Neil Gaiman. Bitter, bitter envy. I'd totally trade all my Nicole Kidman dreams for just one of Neil Gaiman.
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It was a totally awesome dream. I was very disappointed that I had to wake up.
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I have absolutely no idea how I found your journal. But yay.
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