No more nights like that please.

Jul 24, 2012 17:28

So last night I was going to ram a scalpel into my lungs. (It was one of those perfectly calm decisions, rather like the time I walked to Greenwich to drown myself.) I didn't really expect it would kill me, but I calculated there was a chance my lung might collapse which could cause interesting issues. I set things out, wrote the equivalent of 'sorry for the inconvenience if I die' in a notebook, and went to tell two people that I loved them.

There was an argument about the fact I wasn't allowed to stab things; and then I was asked to give a soul back that I've been looking after for the past five years. That was extremely un-happifying on all counts.

By now it was late and I was a complete wreck and too tired to stab anything. Some neuron had the bright thought of sticking an IV needle in my vein and letting the blood drip out. I applauded this notion. Another neuron reminded me I had some things to tell people first. Luckily the conversation lasted several hours and by then I'd regained a small measure of sanity and so was no longer serenely certain of how great it would be to get blood all over my floor.

Today I have mostly been tired and shakey.

Piss off bloody melodrama, we love you not.
Caltrops and arsenic,
Corvid

insanity, necromancy, nights like these

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